


Res Ipsa Loquitur

by Halliwell19



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Final Battle, Friends to Lovers, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Horcruxes, Mutual Pining, Next gen Marauders, Pining, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Smut, they are all friends, will get DARK
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:42:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27986376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halliwell19/pseuds/Halliwell19
Summary: What if Draco Malfoy was sorted into Gryffindor? This is a retelling of the Harry Potter series as if Draco had been in Gryffindor and a slow burn Dramione friends to lovers story.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 47
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1 Year 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> This has been such a work in progress and I'm only like 50% of the way done with it! I was just so excited when writing this that I broke my rule and had to start posting it! Besides being a Reylo fan, I am a huge Dramione fan as well. I saw this meme on Facebook of a, "What if Draco had been sorted into Gryffindor," and sent it to my cousin who immediately was like "You need to write this, now!" 
> 
> Needless to say, this story is legit going to follow as close as possible to the books and movies, but will change based on interactions added or subtracted because of Draco. It is also, ultimately, a Dramione story and is the first slow burn I have every written. The title is actually a legal term that means, "Let it speak for itself," and is connected with the right to defend oneself in the American legal system. I thought the meaning was very fitting, as you will see once the story progresses. 
> 
> VERY SPECIAL THANKS to my cousin and sister who are my Betas and helped me write this story. Without their love and insight it would not be the product it is today. 
> 
> ALSO, huge round of applause to my new friend Alex who created this mood board! I do not possess the time, nor the patience to be this creative, so I was extremely grateful when she reached out to me on Facebook and offered to create them for this story!
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy my first Dramione fic!

The Hogwarts Express was bursting with energy as the returning and first year students found their niches amongst the compartments. Hermione Granger was sitting with Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbot, and Padma and Parvati Patil when Neville loudly exclaimed he had lost his toad, Trevor. The friends broke from the cart as they went knocking on each section looking for the amphibian in question when she came upon a cart of first years. Three boys were sitting on one side of the cart while a boy and two girls were sitting across from them.

“Has anyone seen a toad?” Hermione addressed the students.

Before she could continue the question, one of the boys spoke up, “Try looking in a mirror!” The entire compartment laughed at her except for the boy with the platinum blonde hair. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned away from the rude people. As she was moving on, she felt someone grab her wrist, causing her to turn around.

“Hey, sorry about that. I grew up with Theo. He’s… got an acquired sense of humor. I’m Draco by the way. Draco Malfoy,” Draco let go of her wrist and held out his hand for her to shake.

“Hermione Granger. Pleasure to meet you,” She responded, shaking his hand, grateful that someone had come to apologize for the rude comment, “You don’t need to apologize for someone else’s actions. Besides, I’m no stranger when it comes to bullies.”

“I’m so sorry,” Draco said sincerely.

“It’s fine.” Hermione sighed, trying to shake off the cruel remarks, “Anyway, I really do need to get back to looking for Trevor. Neville was really worried.”

“Longbottom lost a toad? Do you need any help?” Draco offered flashing Hermione a small smile. 

“Yes. And only if you’re willing,” Hermione smiled as she pointed to a different compartment on the left side of the aisle, “I was just about to knock on that one.”

Draco gestured for her to continue. She walked up to the open door and knocked on the frame as she leaned in, “Sorry, has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one.”

The two boys in the cart shook their heads when Hermione’s eyes widened, “Are you doing magic? Let’s see then!”

Draco peered behind Hermione to see a redheaded boy with a rat in his lap and his wand out. The redhead cleared his throat and waved his wand over the rat, “Sunshine, daises, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow.”

Draco laughed hysterically at the clearly made-up spell. It had obviously failed by the sound of the rat squeaking after being shocked with magic. The redhead shrugged his shoulders while the boy with glasses and dark messy hair shook his head.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” Hermione asked, “Well, it’s not very good, is it?” She was about to turn away when she suddenly recognized the boy with glasses, “Holy Cricket! You’re Harry Potter!”

Hermione walked further into the compartment and sat down across from Harry while Draco leaned against the door frame, “Blimey, if it isn’t the boy-who-lived. Not to be rude but what happened to your um…” Draco questioned as he pointed to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, sorry, cousin broke them before I got on the train,” Harry explained.

“I’ve been practicing a few simple spells myself. Allow me,” Hermione said as she pointed her wand directly at the bridge of Harry’s nose, “Oculus Repairo.”

The piece of tape vanished from the wire frame causing the redhead and Harry to stare in amazement at the spell, “Nice one, Granger,” Draco complimented, causing Hermione to smile wider at her successful casting.

“I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” Hermione turned to address the redheaded boy.

“Um… Ron Weasley,” The boy said with his mouth full of sweets.

“Pleasure,” Hermione replied, unapproving of Ron’s lack of manners, “You two better change into your robes. I suspect we should be arriving soon.”

As Hermione got up, Draco moved back so she could get by and continue the hunt for the toad. He leaned back into the compartment and introduced himself by holding his hand out to Harry, “I’m Draco Malfoy by the way. It’s nice to meet you both.”

As Harry was shaking Draco’s hand, Ron spoke up, “Malfoy? As in Lucius Malfoy’s son?”

Draco winced at the accusatory tone Ron had used, “Yeah, the same one.”

“I’m not going to shake your hand. You’re the son of a Death Eater!” Ron spat with hate filling his eyes. Harry stared at Ron, in shock at the hate echoed in the boy’s tone while Hermione looked between Ron and Draco in confusion by the accusation.

Draco’s smile fell from his face as he fixed Ron with a hard stare, “Whatever you say, weasel. In the future, I would prefer you judge me by my actions alone and not the mistakes of my family.”

Draco stormed out of the compartment and down the hallway, Hermione trailing after him she called out, “What did Ron mean about your father, Draco?”

He stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Draco did a quarter turn to face Hermione as he spoke softly, “My father supported You-Know-Who. He’s… a dangerous man with these crazy radical ideas about wizard blood purity and thinks that Mudbloods shouldn’t be allowed to learn. I don’t know the extent of his support in the first wizard world, but there were some… not very flattering rumors.”

“You really shouldn’t say that term,” Hermione scolded with a stern look on her face.

“Why?” Draco asked confused.

“It’s derogatory and hurtful. Plus, it's not politically correct,” Hermione explained, her face softening only slightly at Draco's genuine confusion.

“What’s the correct way then? That's the way I learned growing up to refer to someone who was not from a magical family." 

“You could just say muggle born. That’s not offensive. To be honest, I don’t really know the politically correct term, but that’s what Neville told me is often used,” Hermione stated.

“You’re a mud-muggle born?” Draco asked. Hermione nodded.

Draco playfully smirked at Hermione and said, “I had no idea. You’re spell work back there was actually quite brilliant for someone who didn’t grow up in the magical world. I dare say you and I are going to be competing for the top spot in our year.”

“I assure you, Draco Malfoy, I do not yield when it comes to my grades,” Hermione smiled back. She mimicked the playful tone Draco adopted.

“I suspect not,” Draco laughed before uncrossing his arms and looked directly in Hermione’s eyes, “Hermione… Thank you for listening to my story and…not judging me.”

She nodded and placed a hand on his forearm reassuringly. As the two locked eyes, Draco smiled as he began to feel something that he simply could not describe. Security? Acceptance? Friendship? It was the first time someone in his life heard and listened to him. Unfortunately, the moment between the pair did not last long as they were interrupted by Neville Longbottom calling out that he had found his toad and that the train would be arriving at the station soon.

_____________________

The boat ride across the lake was an experience that neither Hermione, Draco, Harry, nor Ron would forget as they glided across the rippling loch towards the enchanted castle. It was almost overstimulating to watch the castle come into view and march though the ancient staircase. Before long, all the first years were standing outside the Great Hall and were greeted by a powerful witch gracefully dressed in elegant green robes.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. In just a moment, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates, but before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup.”

“Trevor!” Neville Longbottom suddenly shouted as he lunged forward to grab his toad that had, once again, escaped. Some of the class giggled by the interruption while Neville quickly collected his pet. He looked up sheepishly at McGonagall’s stern face before apologizing and turning back to his spot in the crowd.

“The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily,” McGonagall said.

She turned and left to see if the hall was ready for the first years, when Theodore Nott spoke up, “So, it’s true, then. What they were saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.”

Everyone started to collectively whisper Harry’s name when Theo approached Harry, “I’m Theodore Nott. This is Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle.”

Ron snorted at the names when Zabini turned to him, “Think our names are funny do you?”

Nott looked him up and down with disgust on his face, “No need to ask yours. Let’s see… red hair and a hand me down robe. You're obviously a Weasley.”

“Blood traitors,” Goyle fake coughed into his hand causing Crabbe, Zabini, and Nott to laugh along with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode.

“Knock it off, Nott! Didn’t realize you were so starved for attention you needed to bully a Weasley,” Draco snarked as he shot a pointed look at Theo.

“Sod off, Malfoy. What you doing defending him anyway?” Theo asked in confusion.

“Because your voice is as annoying as a Cornish pixie!” Draco said curtly. Some students started to laugh at the insult, the embarrassment evident on Nott’s face. Ron looked over at Draco, surprised that the wizard would willingly stand up for him after how he treated Draco on the train.

Blaise Zabini was ready to step up and punch Draco in the face when Theo held him back. Ready to let the bizarre interaction go, Theo turned back to Harry, “You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to be going and making friends with the wrong sort. If you like, we can help you out with that.”

“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.” Harry said just as McGonagall returned. Her stern face demanded respect and order amongst the group as she escorted them into the Great Hall.

The students’ eyes roamed everywhere taking in the long tables and floating candles in the iridescent night sky when Hermione looked up and spoke to Susan Bones, “It’s not really the ceiling. It’s just bewitched to look like the night sky.”

“And where do you get all your fun facts, Granger?” Draco asked behind her with a friendly smirk on his face.  
Hermione smiled back and proudly said, “I read about it in, _Hogwarts A history._ ”

As the students filed in front of the head tables, McGonagall indicated where the students were to stand. She unrolled a piece of parchment and looked out to the small crowd of children clearing her voice, “Now, before we begin. Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.”

A very old wizard rose from the headmaster’s seat at the center of the head table. He was dressed in royal purple robes and had a traditional pointy wizard hard that was overshadowed by his long white beard, “I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note, that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you.” 

The students had little time to react to the alarming words the headmaster had spoken before McGonagall spoke up, “Now, when I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you shall be sorted into your houses.”

McGonagall grabbed the ratty hat by the point as she held it high above for everyone to see the worn cloth that would decide the rest of their school experience, “Susan Bones.”

A girl with long auburn hair walked up and sat on the stool where the hat once rested. McGonagall carefully placed the hat on her head as the material contorted to form a face. The students gasped in shock as the hat begin speaking, “Ah, I know! HUFFLEPUFF!”

Suddenly, one of the tables cheered very loudly as Susan hopped down to take her place among her fellow Hufflepuffs. Hermione started to hyperventilate a little bit at the daunting decision in which she had no control over. _Oh no, not now_ she thought as began to dread the dizziness that was about to settle in. A few seconds passed, but to her relief, the inevitable panic attack never came. Confused, she looked down to find Draco gently holding and squeezing her wrist reassuringly. His touch was a source of comfort, easing her tremors and calming the rapid beating of her heart, effectively stopping the attack before it had started.

“It’s going to be fine. Deep breaths,” He whispered in her ear.

“Hermione Granger,” McGonagall loudly called her name. Hermione inhaled deeply once more as she muttered to herself to relax all the way up to the stool. 

Draco heard Ron mutter to Harry, “Mental that one,” which caused Draco to shoot him a warning look as the hat was placed on Hermione’s head. The hat did not immediately speak like it did with Susan. It had an almost contemplative look on its face as Draco watched Hermione continue to steady her breathing while the sorting hat took her measure. After a few minutes, the hat finally sorted her.

“Ah, right there. Hmm… right. Okay, better be, GRYFFINDOR!”

One of the middle tables cheered for her as she, too, hopped off the stool and followed the sounds to her new home. Draco clapped for her as she walked by, briefly catching her eye and saw that her face had relaxed significantly. She did a small wave to Draco before taking her seat next to Percy Weasley.

“What do you know, Draco already has a Mudblood girlfriend,” Blaise said taunting Draco.

“Shut it!” Draco snapped back just as the clapping died down and McGonagall called his name.

Draco stepped up to the stool and eagerly sat down. The hat on his head started to laugh. Draco stared straight ahead, attempting to keep his expression neutral as he felt the hat poke and prod through his mind to determine his character, “The Black Family line always surprises me. Even when history repeats itself. Better be… GRYFFINDOR!”

Barely anyone cheered or clapped for Draco as he slowly slid down the stool to go sit next to Hermione. Everyone in the room appeared to be in shock that a Malfoy had been sorted into Gryffindor, even McGonagall. Several at the Slytherin table started to whisper loudly that there had to have been a mistake, for surly a pureblood such as Draco Malfoy could not be in any other house but Slytherin. Others at the Slytherin table started spewing curses at Draco, causing him to hasten his steps to take his seat. Hermione gently placed her hand upon Draco’s wrist and gave it a light squeeze, just like he had done for her, and smiled at him. She told him to ignore the jeers.

Watching the entire interaction from the crowd of first year students, Harry was confused when he asked, “Ron, why is it bad to be in Slytherin?”

“There’s not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin,” Ron said. It was an overly broad stereotype, but one that scared Harry nonetheless. He did not want to end up in House of Snakes. 

“There will be order from the Slytherin table!” Dumbledore sternly rebuked from the head table, causing the rowdy students to immediately cease.

McGonagall regained her composure as she continued to call name after name. No surprise that Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were sorted into Slytherin. Padma Patil and Michael Corner were sorted into Ravenclaw and then Seamus Finnigan was sorted into Hufflepuff with Susan Bones. Ron was caught completely off guard when McGonagall shouted his name.

He gulped loudly as he took a seat on the stool and then gasped as the hat exclaimed, he was another Weasley, “I know just what to do with you. Better be… GRYFFINDOR!”

Ron visibly sighed in relief as he saw his family, all Gryffindors, stand up and loudly cheer for him. He took the seat across from Hermione, who was clapping for him. Draco wasn’t as enthusiastic about having to share a dorm room with Ron, but Hermione gently elbowed him to clap a little harder. Draco complied and even put his hand out, which Ron actually shook this time.

“Thank you, for earlier,” Ron said.

Draco nodded in acknowledgment as the sorting ceremony continued.

“Harry Potter,” McGonagall called, causing everyone in the room to still and focus their attention on Harry’s sorting. Even Dumbledore leaned forward paying more attention to the dark-haired wizard with wired glasses. Harry walked forward looking back at Hermione, Ron, and Draco at the Gryffindor table.

The hat was placed on his head as it sighed and searched Harry’s mind, “Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent. Oh yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you…”

 _Not Slytherin, Not Slytherin_ Harry whispered over and over.

“Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness. There is no doubt about that.”

Harry continued to chant over and over that he did not want to be placed in Slytherin. After several moments of contemplation, the sorting hat finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

He smiled as the hat was taken off his head and happily walked over to the overly enthusiastic table as he sat down and took his place next to Ron and across from Draco. Harry was delighted and relieved as he looked at each of his new friends. Several other students reached over to shake Harry’s hand while the applause continued to roar through the hall. He looked up at the head tables to see Hagrid and the Headmaster clapping for him. Dumbledore raised a goblet to him and winked at Harry, approving his house choice.

Once everyone was sorted, Dumbledore raised his hands and announced the for the feast to begin, which caused the food to magically appear in front of the students’ eyes. Everyone gasped in amazement. Simultaneously, the students helped themselves to the various dishes and piled their plates full. Ron was reaching for another drumstick when he screamed.

“Hello! Welcome to Gryffindor,” the ghost said as he popped his head out from the center of the plate of chicken wings. Suddenly the Great Hall began to fill with all the ghost of Hogwarts as they introduced themselves to the new students and greeted returning ones as well.

“Good evening, Sir Nicholas. How was your summer?” Percy Weasley asked.

“Abysmal. Once again, my request to join the headless hunt has been denied,” Sir Nicholas replied.

“I know you! You’re Nearly Headless Nick!” Ron said in awe.

“I prefer Sir Nicholas, if you don’t mind,” Sir Nicholas replied perturbed.

“Nearly headless? How can you be Nearly headless?” Hermione asked confused.

Sir Nicolas raised an eyebrow at her and said, “Like this,” Many people gasped in disgust as Sir Nicholas pulled his head partially off his shoulders to reveal the transparent blood and guts inside the ghost. Ron gasped in fear. Harry winced, but didn’t advert his eyes while Draco laughed at the manner in which the ghost answered the question before turning to Hermione who had her eyes closed.

“Bet you regret asking him that now,” he said to her with a little chuckle. 

“Only a little bit. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” Hermione replied.

Once the feast was complete, Percy Weasley was tasked with the responsibility for escorting the first years through the staircase since it was his job being the Gryffindor house prefect. The Ravenclaws broke off to a different stairwell while the Gryffindors momentarily stopped to crowd around one of the railings. Several of the first years were leaning far over the rail looking completely down toward the ground level while overs were looking up towards the ceiling and the pictures that lined the walls of the grand staircase.

“This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Keep an eye on the staircases. They like to change,” Percy loudly warned the students as he began walking them to their common room portrait, constantly reminding them to keep up.

Many students whispered and commented on the portraits as they walked by. They were talking and greeting as many new faces as possible till they came across a portrait that was of a rather plump, old woman requesting a password.

“Caput Draconus.” Percy crisply recited, causing the portrait to open and reveal a small porthole in the wall.

The students quickly filed in as Percy begin his speech, “Welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Boys’ dormitories are upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You will find all of your belongings have already been brought up.”

After Percy continued to reiterate the house point system and rules regarding curfew, the young witches and wizards scurried apart to inspect their rooms.

Before heading up, Hermione turned to Draco and asked if he was alright.

Draco smiled at her and said, “It’s just so different from the manor. It… actually looks like a home.”

Hermione smiled at him and told him she would see him tomorrow. Draco returned her smile and walked up to the Boy’s dormitory, ignoring the raised eyebrow Percy was giving him.

It was just as the prefect said, all their trunks were individually placed by a four-poster bed just waiting to be unpacked. The dorm itself was laid out to follow the circular shape of the tower so all the furniture was arranged around a wood-burning stove at the center of the room. Each bed was already made and hung with velvet privacy curtains colored in the infamous Gryffindor red. Draco’s trunk was placed in front of a bed right next to the dormitory entrance. Harry was in the bed to his right. Ron’s was next to the bed on Harry’s other side, followed by Dean Thomas and then Neville Longbottom to occupy the other bed that was on the opposite side of the entrance.

As he was beginning to unpack, Draco found a toad hopping up onto his trunk. “Oi, Neville, I think Trevor wandered off again.”

“Don’t hurt my toad, Malfoy!” Neville shouted as he quickly grabbed Trevor off of Draco’s trunk and hurried back to his bed.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked. Draco turned around to see Harry and Ron standing by his bed.

“It’s a long story,” Draco simply said.

“What? Don’t want to tell your new friends all about your homicidal family? You don’t belong here, Malfoy. The hat clearly made a mistake,” Neville angrily shouted before turning back to unpacking his trunk.

Before anyone could react to what Neville had blurted out, a house elf walked into the dorm room and approached Draco handing him a red envelope that contained a black wax seal of a Gabon Viper. His father’s seal.

Harry noted the change in the room when he quietly asked, “What kind of letter is that?”

Draco was too shocked to say anything, so Ron spoke up, “It’s a howler.”

Before Harry could ask his follow up questions, Draco had opened the envelope, causing the message to come to life and take the form of a mouth.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy. If this is your idea of a practical joke, I am NOT AMUSED!” the voice of Draco’s father echoed through the dormitory. It wasn’t as terribly loud as Ron and Nevil expected.

“With your blood lineage, it is impossible for you to be sorted into such a degrading house. I will be speaking to the ministry immediately to get YOUR FAILURE sorted. Your mother and I are extremely disappointed in your behavior. We have lectured you time and time again to not speak to Mudbloods and blood traitors. Learn your place before I remove you from the school.”

Draco was in shock as he stared at the terrifying message. Each word dripped with the same malevolent tone that chilled the atmosphere of the once inviting dorm room into a space of dread. Before long, the letter had ended and ripped itself apart, leaving the discarded paper all over Draco’s bed.

Ron gently patted Draco on the shoulder and quietly asked him if he was alright. Draco simply nodded and turned around to see the other boys all staring at him.

“Well, you might get your wish after all, Longbottom,” Draco said curtly before walking out of the room.

None of the boys stopped him as he left the dormitory. They all were kind of shocked and none of them knew what to do or say. It wasn’t until Neville finally spoke up that the boys started to react again, “Okay, I feel a little guilty now for what I said.”

Ron looked at Harry, before turning to Neville, “I was a little hard on him myself when we met on the train.”

“Maybe we can all give him a chance,” Harry suggested. Growing up with the Dursleys, he knew what it was like to be ostracized for something that you couldn’t control.

“I mean, he can’t really be _that_ bad if he got sorted into Gryffindor, right?” Dean asked.

The boys nodded in agreement and decided that Draco was going to face enough trouble from his family, and most likely, the entire Slytherin house as well. That’s if he was allowed to stay enrolled in school based on his father’s threat.

“Maybe we can make it up to him by cleaning off his bed,” Harry suggested.

“Yeah, good idea, mate,” Ron said as he and Harry carefully picked up the pieces of shredded parchment off the duvet cover.

As they were just about finished, Draco returned.

“How are you feeling, Draco?” Harry asked.

“I’ll be okay,” Draco said noticing the remains of the howler in Harry and Ron’s hands, “You… cleaned my bed?”

“Yeah, it… seemed like the right thing to do after…” Ron said.

“You don’t have to pity me Weasley,” Draco said as he looked between the two boys, “But… thanks.”

To his surprise, Ron smiled back as he went to go discard the paper in the rubbish bin. Harry stopped in front of Draco and said, “For what it’s worth, this feels like home to me, too.”


	2. Chapter 2 Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the sorting, classes, and a flying lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 2! I try very hard to blend the differences between the books and the stories. Hope you all enjoy!

The excitement of the night before was not completely forgotten in the boys’ dormitory that morning as the young wizards started to dress for the day. Draco looked in his unpacked trunk to find his uniform had changed from the basic black and grey to that of grey with gold and red accents. His ties were also gold and red, and his robe spotted a gold and red lion to indicate his house loyalties.

“I can’t believe our wardrobe magically changed!” Dean exclaimed excitedly as he, Ron, Draco, Neville, and Harry walked down the stairs to the common room to make their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

“I have to say, I think I look good in red,” Draco teased as he pretended to pose causing Ron, Harry, and Dean to laugh out loud. Even Neville gave a little chuckle as he kept his word to try and give Draco a chance. As the boys entered the common room, they were shocked to see Professor McGonagall waiting by the fireplace.

“I’m sorry to catch you before breakfast, but I’m afraid I need to escort Mr. Malfoy to the headmaster’s office this instant,” she said leaving no room for debate.

Draco turned around and said, “I’ll see you guys in class.”

The rest of the boys departed leaving Draco and McGonagall alone in the common room. She motioned for Draco to walk out the portrait hole and follow her to the headmaster’s office.

As they were walking through the corridor, Draco looked up at her and asked, although he didn’t really say it as a question, “It’s my father, isn’t it?”

“He came first thing this morning and demanded an audience with the headmaster,” McGonagall explained.

“He’s going to try to pull me out of the school. He threatened to last night in a howler unless I was moved to Slytherin,” Draco told McGonagall.

“And what do you want to have happen, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to be in Slytherin either,” Draco said.

“I will admit, I was a bit shocked when I heard the hat pronounce you a Gryffindor,” McGonagall admitted.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Professor. Believe me, you aren’t the first person to judge me on the basis of my family. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove myself. Let me show the school that I do belong in Gryffindor,” Draco pleaded.

McGonagall stopped walking after hearing his request and turned to face Draco, “When the founders came together to form this school, the idea behind the different houses was to foster underlying traits shared among groups of students. It was never intended to create this animosity that is present today. My point, Mr. Malfoy, is that you may not appear to be a traditional Gryffindor, but that does not mean that you do not belong in this house. I will do everything I can to keep you where you belong.”

Headmaster Dumbledore’s office was tucked away at the end of a corridor in the west tower and guarded by a rather large but elegant gargoyle. Professor McGonagall faced the statute head on and clearly spoke, “Sugar Quill”.

The gargoyle started to move as it coiled to form a spiral staircase up to the office. Draco followed Professor McGonagall up the stairs and through another archway where he could clearly hear his father yelling at the headmaster.

“This is an outrage! As a member of the board of governors…” Lucius Malfoy threatened, but was cut off by Albus Dumbledore.

“As a member of the board of governors, Lucius, you are well aware that the Sorting Hat’s determination is final, and no parent or ministry official has the power to change that. Once the student is sorted, the magical contract has been formed. I’m sure you are aware of the possible implications that has to your son should you resort to breaking it,” Dumbledore patiently explained before turning to see Professor McGonagall and Draco step into the office.

“Headmaster, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall politely greeted.

“Ah, Draco. Please explain to the Headmaster you wish to be transferred immediately,” Lucius commanded his son as he pointed his cane towards him.

“I… Headmaster…” Draco took a deep breath as he looked between McGonagall, his father, and Dumbledore before finally speaking, “I wish to stay in my house.”

Draco looked down at the floor refusing to meet his father’s disappointed gaze when Dumbledore spoke, “You see, Lucius, the hat was not mistaken. Clearly your son has made ties to the house he was placed in.”

“He will have no further ties, because I will be unenrolling him immediately,” Lucius calmly said.

Draco was about to speak up, but he saw a twinkle from the Headmaster’s eye that caused him to close his mouth and allow Dumbledore to speak.

“I’m surprised, Lucius. Most parents would be honored to have their child sorted into the same house as Harry Potter.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at the statement, “Is that so?”

“Quite,” The Headmaster nodded.

Lucius was quiet for a few moments, looking between McGonagall and Dumbledore before he focused his eyes on Draco, “Would the two of you mind giving my son and I a few moments?”

Dumbledore motioned for McGonagall to follow him in retreating to the other side of the office as Lucius approached Draco. He lowered his face and spoke quietly into his ear to ask, “You are sharing a dorm room with Harry Potter?”

“Yes, father,” Draco whispered back.

“This is indeed quite fortuitous,” Lucius said. Draco looked up to see his father mentally calculating something in his head before the man spoke again, “I expect you to befriend him. Get close. Learn everything you can, and send me weekly owls as to your knowledge and progress of the boy. Failure to do so will result in… some unpleasant consequences.”

The ominous threat hung in the air leaving Draco with only a few options. 1.) He could outright deny his father’s request and almost certainly be sent back to the dormitory to pack his trunk. 2.) He could accept and obey his father’s request, but that would definitively cause him to lose his friends. However, it was the only option that would guarantee he would be permitted to stay in Hogwarts and in Gryffindor house.

 _You could lie_ , the thought whispered in the back of Draco’s mind. It was not a very honorable thought. In fact, it was almost… Slytherin of him. He could send his weekly letters as requested by his father, but lie as to the nature of the information Harry would share with him. In this way, he could keep everything. Secure his means to stay at Hogwarts, stay in Gryffindor, but not at the cost of losing his friends.

With the clever thought rolling through his head, Draco smiled and said, “I accept, father.”

Just then, Dumbledore and McGonagall came back to see if Lucius and Draco were finished speaking. Lucius turned to the two and said, “It appears I have had a change in heart. Draco can remain.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Lucius.” Dumbledore said. The old headmaster sounded please and possessed a conspiratorial glint in his eye. 

“If Draco is no longer needed, I believe he can still head to the Great Hall for some breakfast before his first class,” McGonagall suggested.

“Yes, quite right. Do run along Draco. Enjoy your first day,” Lucius said dismissing his son. Draco controlled his walking until he was out of the Headmaster’s office. Once he was down the stairs, he ran with joy all the way to the Great Hall taking his seat next to Hermione. Harry and Ron perked up when they saw Draco sitting down at the table.

“There you are, Draco! What happened this morning?” Hermione asked.

“My father requested me in the headmaster’s office. He was threatening to have me placed in Slytherin or pull me out,” Draco said as he piled some scramble eggs onto his plate.

“Blimey!” Dean said as everyone stopped eating to lean in closer to hear what happened next.

“Is a re-sort even possible,” Hermione speculated, “I’ve never read about anyone being re-sorted in _Hogwarts A History_.”

“That would be because it has never been requested, “Percy explained from further down the table, “Besides, to do so would be impossible. When the founders created the school in 990 A.D., the hat was created as a way to ensure students were properly sorted after their deaths. The sorting itself creates a contract between the student and the school, binding them to the house as chosen. Breaking magical contracts have unforeseeable consequences. No one can predict what could happen which is why no one has ever tried.”

The Gryffindor table erupted in low mummers and gasps at the extent it would take to re-sort a person. When the initial shock had worn its way through the table, everyone leaned in closer waiting for Draco to continue the story.

“Oddly enough, Dumbledore used Harry to get me to stay, which can’t be good because now my father an ulterior motive,” Draco explained.

“Used me how?” Harry asked in surprise.

“He used your name. Essentially argued that I should stay because I was in the same house as you. It was apparently enough to convince him,” Draco finished before taking a large bite of eggs.

“What did you mean that your father had an ulterior motive?” Neville asked skeptically.

After Draco finished chewing, he turned towards Neville and answered, “He wants me to send him weekly letters giving him information about Harry. Said this was the only way I could stay in Hogwarts and in Gryffindor.”

“Draco, that’s horrible!” Hermione said shocked.

“And you agreed to that?” Harry asked, sort of confused and offended.

“Not exactly. See, this is where I need all your help. I’m not going to tell him anything… at least, not anything important. Hopefully we can come up with some rubbish to send him,” Draco explained. He was internally holding his breath as he looked around at the shocked faces at the table. He couldn’t tell if they were at what transpired from the re-sort request or at Draco’s plea to help him stay in Gryffindor. 

After a few moments of silence, it was Fred Weasley that pipped in, “Young, Malfoy.”

“It would be our pleasure to assist you in this epic prank,” George Weasley finished. The redheaded twins had their signature mischievous glint in their eyes to indicate they were concocting all kinds chaos.

After hearing the endorsement from the Weasley Twins, the rest of the table relaxed and either went back to their breakfast or offered some suggestions of outlandish rumors Draco could supply. While the table was settling down, Hermione leaned over and whispered to Draco, “Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if I’m caught, love,” Draco smirked and winked eliciting a quiet laugh from her. 

________________

Hermione and Draco were sitting next to each other in Transfiguration trying to complete the assignment McGonagall had given then when all of a sudden, the door burst opened. They both turned to see Harry and Ron running into the classroom looking for an empty two-person desk.

Draco was smirking at their tardiness as he watched and waited for the train wreck that he thought was about to happen, while Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her assignment. She had no sympathy for the boys’ plight.

Ron sighed quietly to Harry, “We made it! Can you imagine the look on McGonagall’s face if we were late?”

Draco placed a hand over his mouth to cover the laugh that was bubbling up when he saw the tabby cat perched on the desk leap off and transform into Professor McGonagall. Both Harry’s and Ron’s jaws dropped as McGonagall approached them.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Weasley exclaimed. Draco quietly snorted causing Hermione to look over and shoot him an annoyed look.

“It’s not funny!” she mouthed to him.

“It’s a little funny,” He mouthed back.

“Well thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps it would be more useful if I transfigured yourself or Mr. Potter into a pocket watch? That way one of you might be on time,” McGonagall chastised.

“We got lost,” Harry explained.

“Then perhaps a map. I trust you don’t need one to find your seats,” McGonagall said perturbed. Harry and Ron quickly took their seats and opened their books to the assignment McGonagall had provided them on the board in the front of the classroom.

When the professor’s back was turned, Hermione looked up from her work and turned over to catch Draco’s glance. Smiling a little bit, she rolled her eyes again before refocusing on her assignment.

Draco smiled, pleased that he got Hermione to silently admit that the situation with Harry and Ron was indeed, a little funny.

__________________________

“I’m the most excited about potions! My mother and I used to brew together back at the manor,” Draco said to Hermione in their next class. The Potions classroom was located in the basement of the castle. Ingredients were stored all along the walls, while the majority of the room was occupied by long wooden tables sturdy enough hold several cauldrons at once.

Everyone was seated when the door violently flew open, causing the ingredients along the wall to rattle, to reveal Professor Snape charging into the classroom. The sudden appearance caused everyone to cease conversations when Snape spoke, “There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition…”

Snape looked directly at Draco, causing him to smile slightly at the compliment. Hermione noticed the subtle look and made a mental note to ask Draco about it later while Snape continued his introductory speech.

“I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

Draco’s eyebrows raised at the possibilities when he noticed Snape’s demeanor change.

“Then again,” Snape continued as he zeroed in on a student behind Draco, “Maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts with abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention.”

Hermione and Draco turned their heads around to see Ron nudging Harry to put his quill away.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape drew out his name before continuing, “Our new celebrity.”

Ron visibility gulped while Harry hardened his gaze at Snape.

“Tell me, what would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Snape asked Harry.

 _Sleeping potion_ , Draco mentally thought while Hermione instantly raised her hand at the question. Draco smirked at Hermione, knowing Snape wasn’t going to call on her, before turning back to look at Harry.

Harry shook his head, prompting Snape to continue, “You don’t know? Let’s try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would I look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

 _I_ n _a_ _goat’_ s _stomach_ , Draco thought again. Hermione tried to raise her arm even higher in an attempt to get Snape’s attention.

“I don’t know, Sir,” Harry replied.

“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

 _Monkshood is associated with 'chivalry' while wolfsbane can mean 'misanthropy' or a dislike of others._ Draco mentally answered again. Hermione’s hand never went down, yet Snape refused to call on her.

“I don’t know, Sir.” Harry replied defeated.

Hermione gave him a look of disbelief, finally putting her hand down, when Snape responded, “Pity. Clearly, fame isn’t everything, is it, Mr. Potter?”

____________________

Before Draco could blink, the first month of classes passed and turned into the beginning of October. The homework and lessons were relentless, but Hermione kept motivating him to not give up.

“I hate him!” Harry said as he and Ron walked to their spots at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Draco and Hermione were already sitting down working on some reading.

“Who?” Hermione asked.

“Snape,” Ron and Harry answered at the same time, causing Draco to chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Malfoy?” Ron asked.

“Snape really isn’t that bad. He is a Potions Master and a brilliant teacher. You just got on his bad side,” Draco explained.

“And how do you know?” Harry asked.

“I was actually going to ask the same. That first day when he introduced himself, he seemed to indicate you had a… what was it… ‘predisposition’ to the art?” Hermione smirked as she lightly teased Draco.

Draco threw his hands up in mock surrender, “Alright, you caught me. So, growing up I had many private tutors and during the summer…”

“Well, out with it!” Harry encouraged.

“During the summer, Snape was one of my tutors. He’s friends with my mother, and he helped me with basic Potions techniques. I can already brew most of the first-year potions,” Draco admitted.

“Bloody Hell,” Ron sighed in disbelief.

“Oh, don’t smirk, Draco Malfoy. Just because you have an unfair advantage in potions, doesn’t mean I’m not going to beat you for the top spot,” Hermione said.

Draco couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or if she was genuinely annoyed, but he widened his smirk and said back, “Challenge accepted, Granger.”

Suddenly, everyone in the room jumped at the sound of an explosion, but then quickly started laughing when they saw Seamus from the Hufflepuff table had blown up his water goblet trying to turn it into rum.

Hermine was waving her hand in front of her nose to clear the stench from the smoke, when the ceiling of the Great Hall started to fill up with owls dropping letters and packages off to the various students.

“Ah! Mail’s here,” Ron said looking up with excitement.

All the students were catching and unwrapping their packages when Dean suddenly cried out, “Hey! Look everyone! Neville’s got a Rememberall!”

“I’ve read about those! The smoke turns red when you’ve forgotten something,” Hermione said as she unfolded a letter from her parents.

Draco too was unfolding a letter from his mother when Neville’s ball turned red. The boy stared at the ball in his hand before he turned to Hermione and said, “The only problem is, I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten.”

“Hey, Ron. Someone broke into Gringotts. Listen… ‘Believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown, Gringotts goblins acknowledge the breach but insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number 713, had been emptied earlier that same day.’ That’s odd. That’s the vault Hagrid and I went to,” Harry contemplated.

Hermione had a puzzled look on her face when Ron asked, “And you have no idea what was in the vault?”

“Whatever it was, it clearly had to be something invaluable to risk being that stupid. Gringotts is impenetrable. No one can break into it without getting out, at least, without getting out alive,” Draco said.

The conversation died after Draco’s final comment by Dean coming up to them to tell them it was time to head to their first flying class.

_______________________

It was an unusually sunny and calm day when the first years stood in parallel lines behind two rows of training brooms laid out on the lawn. The students were waiting patiently with their hands down at their sides when a witch with spikey short hair walked in between the students, “Good afternoon, class.”

“Good afternoon, Madam Hooch,” The students all responded in unison.

After putting on her gloves and addressing a few students personally, Madam Hooch turned around and spoke to the rest of the class, “Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step-up to the left side of their broomstick. Quickly now, come on, hurry up!”

The students all followed the instructions as they watched Madam Hooch’s demonstration, “Stick your right hand over the broom and say, ‘up.’ “

Harry rigidly held out his hand and shouted up, the broom immediately obeying his command. Hermione looked over in confusion while Draco chuckled.

“Up,” Draco calmly said, causing the broom to immediately fly up into this waiting hand.

Hermione whipped her head over to see Draco smirking at her with his broom in hand. He gave her a quick wink causing her to scrunch her nose in annoyance as she kept trying to command the broom to come to her. The broom was being most uncooperative and kept flopping around on the ground like a fish out of water.

“With feeling,” Madam Hooch advised to the students struggling.

“Up!” Ron loudly yelled at his broom, causing the wood handle to fly off the ground and hit him in the face.

Harry and Draco laughed hysterically at Ron, causing the embarrassed redhead to rub his nose and tell them to shut up before he tried again.

Hermione’s continued to roll on the ground fueling her frustration as she continued to try and command the broom. She noticed she was quickly becoming one of the few students who couldn’t get the broom off the ground. Nervous sweat began to form on her palms as she felt the tell-tale signs of a panic attack begin to tighten in her chest.

“You need to relax, Hermione,” Draco advised, “Take a deep breath and trust that the broom will come to you.”

“Trust? But that wasn’t in the book…” Hermione started to say, but Draco cut her off.

“You can spend all day reading about the theory, love. But sometimes, magic requires you to just feel it for it to work. If you don’t trust the broom, then trust _me_. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. And when you’re ready, say ‘up,’” Draco said as he waited and watched Hermione follow his instructions.

Right hand out, eyes closed, and breath released, Hermione spoke loudly and clearly, “Up.” Her words caused the broom to rise slowly but gracefully into her hand. Upon contact with the wood, Hermione’s eye shot open as she let out a relieved gasp at being able to summon the broom. The sweat had dried up in her hand and she no longer felt she might hyperventilate. Draco had once again helped her control her panic attack.

She looked over and saw that Draco was smiling at her success. The sweet grin made Hermione’s heart do an unexpected flutter as she gave him a grateful smile for helping her.

“Now, once you’ve got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it,” Madam Hooch instructed after she saw all the students had successfully called their brooms, “Grip it tight. You don’t want to be sliding off the end.”

Madam Hooch continued to circle the students as she gave the instructions, “When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my mark, three, two…”

Once the whistle blew, Neville’s broom unexpectedly rose straight into the air startling the young Gryffindor.

“Mr. Longbottom!” Madam Hooch yelled, but the broom kept rising higher and higher until it was at least twenty feet in the air.

“Down! Down!” Neville screamed at the enchanted stick. The poor boy became hysterical when he realized the broom was refusing to follow any commands. His fear caused him to loosen his grip and slide sideways off the handle. Neville screamed as he fell down to the ground face first, smacking onto the grass with a loud snap. His broomstick, completely forgotten, drifted lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Several students cried out after watching Neville fall, but none moved forward to help him as they heard the loud and demanding voice of Madam Hooch approach, “Everyone out of the way!”

Neville was groaning in pain as Madam Hooch leaned down and carefully picked up Neville. Madam Hooch was examining poor Neville when Hermione whispered to Draco, “Is he alright?”

Draco nodded at her when they turned back at the sound of Madam Hooch tisking, “Oh, dear, it’s a broken wrist. Come on now, up you get.”

Everyone was so focused on Neville that no one was paying attention to the fact that Neville had dropped his Rememberall, and it was currently being picked up by Blaise Zabini.

“Everyone is to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand?” Madam Hooch commanded, “If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before anyone can say Quidditch.”

Once Madam Hooch had left the students, Theo started laughing as he addressed the crowd, “Did you see his face?”

Blaise threw the dropped Rememberall up in the air for Theo, who reached out and caught it. Theo threw it back to Blaise who said, “Maybe if the fat lump remembered to give this a squeeze, he’d have remembered to fall on his fat arse.”

The Slytherins all started snickering and laughing when Harry stepped up, “Give it here, Zabini.”

Blaise turned around to face Harry, “No, I don’t think I will.

“I think we should leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find,” Theo suggested

Blaise hopped up on his broom and flew high above the courtyard, holding the Rememberall in one hand while he taunted Harry below, “How about on the roof?”

Theo also mounted his broom and followed Blaise. The two were hovering in the air when Theo looked down and said, “What’s the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?”

Harry gritted his teeth as he watched Zabini continue to juggle the Rememberall back and forth with Nott. Draco moved forward to stand next to Harry when he said, “I’ll distract Nott. You grab the Rememberall from Zabini.”

Harry nodded in agreement at the plan as the two moved forward slightly to mount their brooms. Almost immediately, Hermione pushed her way forward, “No way! You two heard what Madam Hooch said,” she warned, “Besides, Harry, you don’t even know how to fly.”

Harry took off first, Draco following right behind him. He could barely hear Hermione calling them idiots through the rushing wind.

Harry was floating right across from Zabini when Draco did a wide sweep setting a collision course with Nott.

“Give it here Blaise, or I’ll knock you off your broom!” Harry shouted. Just as Blaise was about to respond, Draco was already on course and rammed directly into Theo. The force caused both of them to drastically lose altitude and crash into the ground. Draco had much more experience with brooms, having grown up with a training one himself, so he was able to tumble and roll off without causing any damage to himself and the broom. The same could not be said for Theo who managed to knock his head pretty hard in the ground and break his nose.

The class gasped as they watched Draco and Theo tumble on the ground. Hermione and Ron ran over to help Draco up. The two were relieved that Draco was unharmed.

Up in the sky above, Blaise was annoyed when he turned his attention back to Harry, “Go fetch, Potter,” and threw the Rememberall far across the courtyard.

Harry, without thinking, flew right past Blaise and dove after the Rememberall. His sole focus was on catching the Rememberall. With his righthand up in the air, he reached out and grabbed the object, the force causing him to do a couple of rolls that stopped him from hitting the window he was about to collide with.

Smiling to himself, Harry let go of his broom for a second in astonishment that he had caught the Rememberall, not realizing that McGonagall saw Harry catch the object in midair on a broom from the window.

Harry drifted back towards the group of students as he held the Rememberall up in the air for them to see. The crowd, including Ron, Hermione, and Draco all started cheering and ran towards Harry.

Students were embracing Harry, congratulating him on his superb catch. Harry made eye contact with Draco before asking, “Are you alright?”

“All good, mate. That was wicked, Harry. Nice job,” Draco praised.

The two boys smiled at one another before the joyous celebrations were cut short by Professor McGonagall shouting, “Harry Potter! Follow me!”

Everyone got quiet as they watched Harry walk off towards the castle with the Gryffindor head of house. Draco, Ron, and Hermione refused to look back at the snickering that the Slytherins were spewing.

“He’s going to be alright, right?” Ron asked the two with just a slight quiver in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied, “We all heard Madam Hooch’s threat.”

“There is no way Dumbledore is going to expel Harry. If anything, McGonagall will probably just deduct house points or given him detention,” Draco said trying to reassure Ron.

Ron nodded in agreement as the group of students reconvened till the class was dismissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3 Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Studying in the Library, Quidditch, Charms, and a Troll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would not have happened without my sister's diligent edits. She is the real MVP. I just look pretty and come up with the story. LOL. 
> 
> HUGE SHOUT OUT to Alex for this incredible mood board! She is so talented and I just appreciate her so much! 
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading and commenting!

Draco and Hermione were studying in the library the next morning when he looked over and saw Hemione scrunching her nose in concentration at a particularly thick text. He raised his head slightly so that he could see what she found so consuming. It must have been particularly interesting since it was drawing her attention away from their actual homework. After seeing the title, Draco smirked and returned to the essay that he was working on for History of Magic.

“That doesn’t look like our History of Magic textbook,” He commented casually, causing Hemione to raise her head.

“I’m just trying to understand why the broom didn’t come when I commanded it,” She said, guiltily. “According to this, the broom should have responded once I channeled my magic. So, something is either wrong with the broom, or it was my magic…”

“That’s not what happened, Hermione. There is nothing wrong with your magic,” Draco reassured her.

“Then do you have an explanation for why I was the last one to call my broom yesterday?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Draco simply said as he closed his own textbook and began packing his bag.

“Well, out with, Draco! What is it?” Hermione prodded.

Draco paused and leaned across the table to look directly at Hermione, so that she could tell he was serious, “Because you were overthinking the task and allowed your fear to take over.”

Hermione’s face contorted in confusion. She was about to refute the statements when Draco raised his hand to stop her so he could explain, “My mother described it to me this way when I was younger. Any wizard can be good with magic, but a great wizard will always trust it. From what I have learned about you, Hermione Granger, you are grounded and can’t just blindly accept something without some form of proof. Correct?”

Dropping her gaze, Hermione nodded, agreeing with Draco’s assessment. He continued, “In order to fly, you have to trust your magic to channel itself to a certain extent. More importantly, you have to control your fear when using wandless magic. If you can’t trust the magic or control your fear, you run into a disaster scenario like what happened with Neville. You lose control.”

She sighed, “Yes, I see your point. I am not particularly fond of heights. It’s just… the situation is incredibly frustrating! I read this book at least twice before our first flying lesson yesterday to prepare myself, and when I couldn’t pull the broom towards me, I sort of…”

“Panicked? Like before the sorting ceremony?” Draco asked.

“It’s not something I tell people about. The panic attacks. Maybe one day I’ll tell you why they happen, but not today. I just want you to know they happen when I get really stressed or feel I am about to fail,” Hermione revealed.

Draco leaned across the table and gently wrapped his hand around her wrist, feeling for your pulse; the familiar action soothing, “I’ll stop them if I can,” he promised. Hermione visibly let out a breath she had been holding in. After a moment, Draco kindly smiled at her before letting go of her wrist so that he could finish packing his bag and head off to find Harry and Ron.

“Draco,” Hermione called after him as she rose from the table.

“Yes?” He asked as he turned around to face Hermione.

“Thank you. For listening and not judging me,” Hermione said, “When the broom wouldn’t come, I was afraid I was losing my magic. That this was all going to be a sick joke, and I was going to wake up back at home in my bed because I don’t belong here…”

Draco immediately grabbed her and crushed her into a tight hug, “You do belong here, Hermione. Who told you that you didn’t?”

Hermione shook her head, refusing to answer. Draco sighed, having a pretty good idea who, and internally swore that he was going to beat up Blaise and Theo.

After embracing her for a few moments, he let go and assured her that he would see her in class.

___________________

All the school seemed to be able to talk about was the fact that Harry Potter, a first year, had been named seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. While Draco was happy for his friend, he was also just a twinge jealous that Harry was going to get to play on the house team, and in his favorite position no less.

“Seeker? But first years never make the house teams. You must be the youngest player in…” Ron started, but Harry cut him off.

“In a century, according to McGonagall,” Harry finished. Draco, Harry, and Ron were walking together in between classes when Fred and George came up behind them.

“Hey, well done, Harry! Wood’s just told us,” George said.

“Fred and George are on the team too. Beaters,” Ron explained.

“Our job is to make sure you don’t get bloodied up too bad. Can’t make any promises, of course. Rough game, Quidditch,” Fred explained.

“Brutal! But no one’s died in years, though someone will vanish occasionally,” George said.

“But they usually turn up in a month or two!” Fred yelled as Ron, Harry, and Draco left the twins to cut across a small courtyard.

Draco was laughing as he saw Harry’s confused face, “Don’t worry, Harry. It’s not that scary. Between the Weasleys and I, we will have you up to snuff on the game in no time.”

“Draco is right. Quidditch is great. Best game there is, and you’ll be great too!” Ron encouraged when Hermione ran up to join the three.

“But I’ve never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?” Harry asked.

“You won’t make a fool of yourself. It’s in your blood,” Hermione said. The three boys stared at her in confusion, prompting her to beckon them to follow. She led them down a hallway to the Quidditch trophy case where she pointed to a plaque displayed in the front. There was a gold shield with the title “seeker” and the name “James Potter,” inscribed below it.

“Whoa, Harry! You never told me your father was a seeker too!” Ron exclaimed.

Hermione gave Ron a look of disbelief while Draco gently faced palmed himself at Ron’s comment.

“I didn’t know,” Harry said wistfully as he sadly stared at his father’s name.

The four made their way back to the Gryffindor common room with the previous conversation weighing heavily on their minds. They had just begun climbing the grand staircase when Ron spoke up again, “I’m telling you, Harry. It’s spooky! She knows more about you than you do.”

“Who doesn’t?!” Harry replied before looking over his shoulder to joke with Draco, “You can put this one in your letter to your father.”

Draco let out a loud laugh when, suddenly, the movement of the staircase caused them to quickly grab the sides of the rail.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked.

“The staircases change, remember?” Hermione said as she too grabbed the railing to keep herself steady. The staircase took the four to the opposite side of the castle from where they had come, firmly connecting the stairs to a new landing with a loud thump.

“Let’s go this way,” Harry said as he quickly jogged forward to the door in front of them.

“Before the staircase moves again,” Ron affirmed.

The quartet scurried through the door at the top of the staircase to find themselves in the middle of a large, dark room. There were several statues that were completely covered in dust and cobwebs giving the place a foreboding appearance.

“Does anybody else feel like we shouldn’t be here?” Draco asked the group.

“That’s because we’re not supposed to be here,” Hermione explained, “This is the third floor. It’s forbidden!”

Everyone jumped when Harry accidently walked right by a stone torch causing a flame to magically appear and light the room further. After recovering from the shock, Harry turned around and said, “Maybe we should go.”

As the trespassing students were leaving, a Maine Coon appeared blocking their escape.

“That’s Filch’s cat!” Ron cried out as the cat continuously meowed at them.

“Run!” Harry instructed, causing the four to bolt in the opposite direction of the cat. As they ran, more torches lit the corridor which allowed them to search for places to hide. 

Draco pointed out a door behind Harry, further down the corridor, “Let’s hide through there!”

Harry reached the door first and tried to yank it open, but it would not move, “It’s locked!”

“That’s it. We’re done for!” Ron whimpered as he turned around to face Hermione and Draco.

“Oh, move over!” Hermione commanded as she aggressively pushed Harry out of the way. Raising her wand, she pointed it directly at the lock and spoke, “Alohomora.”

The spell immediately released the lock, the magic illuminated the mechanism in a golden yellow hue for a second before it dimmed. They slipped inside and quickly shut the door just as Filch entered the third floor to find Mrs. Norris staring down the empty corridor.

“Alohomora?” Ron whispered to Hermione.

“ _Standard Book of Spells_ chapter seven,” Hermione replied.

Draco chuckled at Hermione’s response, “Brilliant!”

Everyone kept quiet as they listened for Filch to depart. After a few minutes, Hermione pulled her ear away from the door and announced that the caretaker was gone.

“He must think this door is locked,” Ron speculated.

“It was locked,” Hermione rebutted.

“And for good reason,” Harry said in a quivering voice. Draco, Ron, and Hermione turned around to find a giant, black, three-headed dog sleeping in front of them. One of the heads moved slightly bumping into the middle head, causing the third head to also wake with a yawn. As the heads awoke and their eyes focused, they started to growl at the intruders.

All four of the children screamed at the top of their lungs before turning and running away. With their combined strength, they were able to relatch the door and prevent the dog from taking a bite out of one of them. Safe, the quartet raced back to the Gryffindor common room.

“What do they think they are doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?” Ron yelled at the three. 

“That thing is a Cerberus,” Draco corrected, slightly out of breath.

“Honestly, Ron. You don’t use your eyes, do you? Didn’t you see what it was standing on?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t care what it is! And I wasn’t looking at its feet as I was a bit preoccupied with its heads! Or maybe you two didn’t notice, there were three!” Ron yelled back. 

“It was standing on a trap door,” Hermione snapped at Ron.

“Which means the Cerberus wasn’t there by accident,” Draco supplied.

“Exactly, Draco! I bet it’s guarding something,” Hermione theorized. 

“Guarding something?” Harry asked confused.

“That’s right,” Hermione affirmed, fixing the boys with a stern look, “Now, I’m going to bed before either one of you comes up with another clever idea to get us killed! Or worse… expelled.”

“She needs to sort out her priorities,” Ron murmured. The statement earned a head nod from Harry but an eye roll from Draco.

_______________________

It was finally Saturday when Draco pulled Harry out of bed nice and early and took him down to the Quidditch storage room. They obtained special permission from Madam Hooch to borrow a set of balls so that he could teach Harry the rules of the game.

“Quidditch is the main sport of the wizarding world,” Draco explained, “Each team has seven players; Three chasers; Two beaters; One keeper; And one seeker. Seeker is your position.”

After depositing the equipment trunk, they had liberated from the storage room onto the grassy courtyard, Draco decided to begin his lesson with a demonstration. Selecting a large red ball from the center of the chest, he threw it to Harry, who managed a fumbling catch. “Right, there are three kinds of balls. This one is called a Quaffle. The chases score goals for their teams by putting this through one of those three hoops, over there.”

Harry turned to where Draco was pointing off in the distance at the Quidditch stadium. There was a set at each end of the Quidditch pitch, the golden hoops varied in height. He refocused on Draco who continued to explain the positions. “The Keeper defends the hoops and tries to keep the opposing team from scoring.” 

Harry nodded in acknowledgment as he threw the Quaffle to Draco to put back in the chest. “What are those?” he asked trepidly.

Draco laughed, picking up an item that resembled a cricket bat. “Just watch,” he said, his grey eyes dancing in amusement. 

Harry cautiously stepped back as Draco released one of the miniature cannon balls. Once the chain was off, the iron ball immediately flew high into the air before arching into a rapid, deadly descent. Harry’s eyes widened as Draco wound his arm up, aiming to hit the jet-black object. The wood made contact, the force shooting the ball up and across the court yard in a fast zig zag motion.

Draco handed the bat to Harry, “That, was a Bludger.”

“You mean the things that Fred and George are supposed to keep away from me?” Harry asked. His eyes watched the chaotic ball waiting for it to zip towards his position on the ground. Mimicking Draco’s swing, Harry managed to hit the ball with equal ferocity, sending it back into the sky looking for a new target.

The two boys laughed, exhilarated by the thrill of trying not to get hurt, “That’s exactly what beaters do. They stop those little devils from knocking you off your broom.”

Suddenly, the iron ball came sailing back in Draco’s direction. Harry tried to hand the bat back to him, but Draco just waved him off and instead jumped up and caught the Bludger straight in his chest. After struggling on the ground for a moment, he managed to secure the ball with the chain once more. 

Ready for the big finale, Draco pushed on the symbol of the Hogwarts crest located inside the lid of the trunk. With a flourish, Draco held the small golden ball that had been released out to Harry. “This is the Golden Snitch.”

“I like this ball,” Harry said as he carefully took it from Draco’s hands. He turned it around a few times, curiously examining it. The snitch felt alive in his hand, the flutter of its wings reminding him of a hummingbird.

Draco laughed, the comment reminding him of his own reaction when his father introduced him to Quidditch, “You like it now. But just wait. It’s wicked fast and almost impossible to see.”

“What do I do with it?” Harry asked.

“You catch it. Before the other team’s seeker can. When you catch this, the game is over.” Draco explained.

“So, I catch this and Gryffindor wins?” Harry clarified as he felt the snitch fly away. He was watching the golden ball’s quick movements with child-like wonderment when Draco snatched the ball out of the air. 

“Usually, the team with the most points, wins. Each goal is worth 10 points. Catching the snitch is worth 150. So, typically, the team that catches the snitch wins the match, but anything can happen in quidditch!” Draco explained putting the snitch back in the chest.

“You had no issue catching the snitch, Draco. And you’re fantastic on a broom. Why didn’t you try out for the position?”

Draco stood up and sighed, “They didn’t host try outs, because the team had already found a seeker. It was the only open position.”

“What?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“It’s like Ron said. First years don’t get on the team, but I was determined try out anyway. I was a little bit jealous when I heard you got the position,” Draco sheepishly explained.

“Then why did you offer to help teach me the game? You clearly are very passionate about it,” Harry asked.

“Because you are my friend, Harry. Just because I didn’t get seeker this year, doesn’t mean there won’t be an opportunity for me to play in the future. And there are clubs I can join if I really wanted to,” Draco replied. Before Harry could respond, the boys heard someone snorting behind them. They turned around to see a tall, lean individual in a brown sweater that was the same color of his bowl cut.

“I would watch your back if I were you, Potter. Sounds to me like Malfoy is after your spot,” The boy said.

“I am not!” Draco yelled back defensively.

“As long as I’m the Gryffindor captain, I won’t let a Malfoy on my team,” the boy said unkindly before turning to Harry, “Welcome to the team, Harry. I’m Oliver Wood. Keep an eye out for your practice schedule. The real Gryffindors will teach you how to play.”

After the rude introduction, Oliver left the courtyard, leaving the boys stunned. Harry knew prejudice existed in the wizarding world, but he didn’t understand why everyone was treating Draco like this! As the boys were returning the borrowed equipment to the Quidditch storage closet, Harry looked over at Draco, “Why do people treat you like that?”

“Let it go, Harry. It doesn’t matter,” Draco said.

“No, Draco! Neville acts like he sleeps with one eye open because he is afraid of you; the Slytherin’s call you a blood traitor; your father practically asked you to spy on me; and everyone else either mocks you or calls you a baby death eater. What does that mean?” Harry asked exasperated.

Draco sighed. He was dreading this conversation with Harry, silently hoping that he would be able to avoid it. But since Harry didn’t grow up in the wizarding world, he knew sooner or later he would have to explain himself.

Draco turned and was directly standing in front of Harry, “My father was a death eater in the first wizarding war. He supported You-know-who. As you have heard, people call me a blood traitor because both my mother and father come from Pureblood lines, and I was expected to follow those ideologies and standards. My sorting into Gryffindor essentially broadcasted to the entire school that I didn’t truly believe that crap and had denounced my family’s teachings. Neville’s story isn’t mine to tell, but let’s just say that what he said about people in my family being homicidal maniacs isn’t too far from the truth.”

Harry was speechless. He hadn’t had any idea this was where Draco came from. He understood the whispers more now.

When Harry didn’t respond, Draco continued, “You can probably draw your own conclusions about my father. He isn’t a good man. But I promise you Harry, even if I have to prove it to you my entire life, I am nothing like him.”

Harry nodded his head acknowledging Draco’s story. He placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before saying, “I believe you.”

With the heavy conversation left behind in the closet, the boys went about enjoy the rest of their weekend when Harry asked, “How do you know you won’t be the seeker next year?”

Draco barked out a laugh, “Trust me, Harry. You’re stuck being the Gryffindor seeker for the next seven years.”

___________________

It was Halloween, which meant that the infamous Hogwarts Samhain feast would be happening tonight. But first they had to get through Charms with Professor Flitwick. When Harry first met the professor, he had asked Ron if he was a dwarf causing Draco to burst out laughing and Hermione to scold Harry.

“Harry! You can’t make those judgements. That’s offensive. Besides, Professor Flitwick is part goblin,” Hermione explained.

Filius Flitwick was a very kind and intelligent professor who possessed a mastery in charms. Today he was preparing the first years for a lesson in levitation. “One of a wizard’s most rudimentary skills is levitation or the ability to make objects float or fly. Now, do you all have your feathers?”

Hermione, along with most of her classmates, raised her feather up for Flitwick to see. “Good. Now, don’t forget the nice wrist movement we ‘ve been practicing. The swish and flick. Everyone.”

The class collectively followed along with the professor. Once everyone had completed the incantation, Flitwick continued, “Good. Oh, and enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go, then.”

Harry, Ron, and Draco practiced the swish and flick movements while saying the spell as instructed. Hermione, in contrast, merely watched all the students around her either mispronouncing the spell or not doing the movement as instructed by Flitwick.

“Going to give it a go, Granger?” Draco asked teasing her.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him playful when the two looked over to see Ron raise his wand high above his head and say, “Wingardium Leviosar.”

He was violently swishing his wand as if it were a sword and he meant to stab the feather. His antics made Draco laugh. Hermione, however, could not find amusement in Ron’s poor spell work. With a reprimand that had become second nature to her during their short acquaintance, Hermione intervened.

“Stop, Stop! You’re going to take someone’s eye out. Besides you’re saying it wrong. It’s Levi-Oh-sa. Not Levio-Sar,” Hermione lectured.

“You do it then if you’re so clever. Go on,” Ron dared Hermione.

At this point, Harry had heard the dare and also stopped practicing. He looked up to catch Draco’s eye; the blonde was mouthing something to him.

“5 Knuts on Granger,” Draco whispered.

“You’re on,” Harry murmured back as the boys turned to watch.

She performed a dainty swish and flick motion as instructed by the professor and recited, “Wingardium Leviosa.”

The feather floated higher and higher with Hermione’s controlled wand movements. Draco looked at Hermione’s face as she shot Ron a smug look. She glanced over to see Draco staring at her, which caused him to lightly flush in embarrassment and redirect his gaze to her floating feather.

“Well done! See here, everyone, Miss Granger’s done it! Splendid!” Professor Flitwick exclaimed.

Ron turned away from her and was sulking while Harry was watching the feather in amazement. No one was paying attention to Seamus who was still trying to recite the spell. He mixed up one too many syllables and caused his feather to explode.

Draco was covering his mouth to try to hide the laugh that was about to spill out, while Harry just stared at the charred feather and the scorch marks on Seamus’s face. He casually looked up and said to Professor Flitwick, “I think we are going to need another feather over here, Professor.”

After class, Harry and Ron were walking with Seamus and Dean to their next lesson with Hermione and Draco not far behind them.

“I can’t get over the smirk you gave Weasley after you perfectly levitated the feather! Thanks for being so clever, by the way. I won five knuts from Harry!” Draco told Hermione, which made her laugh.

“Oh? Does that make me a royal betting mare, now?” Hermione teased with a huge smile on her face, “But in all seriousness, it honestly wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I took your advice and calmed myself right before I cast the spell, and it worked!”

Draco was about to ask her to study with him in the library later when they heard Ron loudly say, “It’s Levi-osa, not Leviosar.”

Hermione’s face dropped. He was clearly mocking her after she bested him in class.

“Don’t listen to him, Hermione,” Draco implored, but Hermione had already zeroed in on what Ron was saying. He could see tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes.

“She’s a nightmare, honestly! No wonder she hasn’t got any friends.” Dean, Seamus, and Harry were all laughing with Ron when Hermione pushed past him in tears.

“I think she heard you,” Harry said.

“You think?” Draco said curtly as he too pushed past Weasley to run after Hermione.

“Hermione, wait!” Draco called after her, but she showed no signs of slowing down. He ran further until he caught up with her, “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad that he couldn’t make the feather float today.”

“Why shouldn’t I listen? He’s right. I’m just a know-it-all freak who no one likes,” Hermione said as she ran around the corner and out of sight.

“I like you,” Draco said to himself as he lost her in the sea of students. 

_________________

The Halloween feast really was everything the older students had been raving about. There was every single type of wizard candy imaginable lining down the long house tables for students to pile onto their plates. Jack-o-lanterns were hanging in place of the usual candles, which only added to the spooky feeling of the festivities.

After spending most of the afternoon looking for Hermione, Draco gave up and decided to head to the Great Hall, hoping Hermione would join them for dinner. He sat down next to Ron, who was stuffing his face with as much candy as possible, when he looked up and met eyes with Harry. He looked worried and apologetic.

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry asked Draco.

“I don’t know. I’ve spent most of the afternoon searching the castle and couldn’t find her,” Draco said as he reached over and grabbed a piece of carrot cake.

Neville leaned over and said, “Parvati Patel said that she wouldn’t come out of the girl’s bathroom. She said she had been in there all afternoon. Crying.”

“Of, course. The one place I didn’t look,” Draco sighed exasperated.

Harry, at least, had the emotional intelligence to look embarrassed by the information, but Ron just shrugged his shoulders as if he was unconcerned. Suddenly, Professor Quirrell pushed the doors of the Great Hall opened and screamed, “Troll in the dungeon! Troll in the dungeon!”

Headmaster Dumbledore stood up from the head table as all the students shifted their attention from him to Professor Quirrell. The purple-robed professor said, “Thought you ought to know,” before fainting in the middle of the hall.

Panic spread like wildfire through the Great Hall, with students dropping food and screaming as they got up from their house tables to run out of the dinging room.

“Silence!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed though the chamber, causing everyone to stop in their tracks and turn in his direction. “Everyone will please not panic! Now, prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons.”

Percy immediately carried out Dumbledore’s orders and shouted to Gryffindor house to keep up and stay alert. They were crossing though a passageway when Harry turned to Ron and asked, “How did a troll get in?”

“Not on its own. Trolls are really stupid. Probably people playing jokes,” Ron explained to Harry, but was cut off when Draco pushed past him going back the way they had just come.

“Oy! What’s with you, Malfoy?” Ron cried out, freezing when he saw the panic on the other boy’s face.

“Hermione! She doesn’t know!” Draco exclaimed. He didn’t bother to look back, but heard Ron and Harry’s steps following behind him.

The three rounded the corner and were running as fast as they could down the corridor when they stopped at the sound of a loud grunt. All three pairs of eyes fixated on the troll silhouette that was cast on the wall in front of them.

“That’s not good,” Draco whispered.

“I think the troll has left the dungeon,” Ron obviously stated as Harry grabbed both of their robes and pulled them into a small alcove to hide. The boys watched as the troll lumbered by. Seconds later, they heard a shrill, piercing scream.

“That’s Hermione!” Draco screamed, causing the boys to sprint after the troll with no clue if they could stop it in time to save her. 

They busted the doors open and found the troll had just taken its club and destroyed all the stalls. Draco could see Hermione was on the ground, trying to move the wooden debris off of her.

“Hermione! Move!” Harry shouted.

In the light of the bathroom, Draco could clearly make out more detail of the terrifying creature. The thing was at least twelve feet tall with wrinkly, grey and lumpy skin. Draco was momentarily distracted by the troll hobbling on extremely large, ugly flat feet when he noticed it was heading towards Hermione.

“Distract it!” Harry suddenly yelled at the boys.

Draco, Harry, and Ron started picking up pieces of wood and threw them at the troll when Ron screamed at the creature, “Hey! Pea brain!”

While their aim was true, striking the troll across various parts of its back, it did not turn until it heard Ron shouting. The distraction allowed Hermione to reach the opposite side of the chamber and hide under a partially destroyed sink while Harry and Draco darted around the troll to trap it between them.

The troll roared, solely focused on Ron, and began to advance upon the red headed wizard. Harry drew his wand and ran towards the troll. He grabbed onto the club and used it to propel himself up and onto the troll’s shoulders. The force of Harry’s landing confused the troll, causing the creature to roar again and shake its entire body back and forth. Harry was struggling to maintain his hold on the troll, when he accidently pushed his wand into the troll’s snout.

“Gah!” Ron said in disgust, but was also visibly relieved that the troll had stopped heading for him. 

With the creature distracted for the time being, Draco ran to Hermione and held out his hand to pull her up, “Are you alright?” He asked, quickly looking her over. Her robe was torn and dusty, but otherwise she was not cut or badly bruised. Considering the damage that was done, she was very lucky. 

“I’m fine,” she breathlessly replied. She had grabbed further up Draco’s forearm to steady and leverage herself off the ground when they turned towards the sound of Harry screaming. 

“Do something!” Harry shouted.

“What?” Ron shouted back as he looked around while the troll tried to hit Harry with his club, barely missing.

“Anything!” Harry shouted again. 

“Ron! The club! Levitate the club!” Draco yelled as he and Hermione watched in horror at Harry dangled helplessly.

Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the club.

“Swish and flick,” Hermione instructed.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” Ron recited causing the club levitate above the troll’s head. A giant grin on his face, he softly whispered to himself, “cool!”

Ron released the club just as the troll looked up. Gravity allowed the club to fall and clobber the creature directly in the head. The impact caused the troll to drop Harry, who rolled out of the way, and fall forward on its stomach.

The troll stopped moving. The quartet stared at the creature for a good thirty seconds before they dared approach.

“Is it dead?” Hermione quivered.

“I don’t think so. Just knocked out,” Harry replied calmly.

“Yeah, I can see it breathing,” Draco confirmed.

Harry and Ron looked at Harry’s wand in disgust as thick, slimy buggers dripped off the end. Harry was cleaning it off when Professors McGonagall, Quirrell, and Snape ran into the bathroom.

McGonagall gasped as she pointed at Harry and Ron, “Oh my goodness. Explain yourselves, both of you!”

The boys searched unsuccessful for an excuse to offer when Hermione spoke up, “it was my fault, Professor McGonagall.”

“Miss Granger?” McGonagall asked in disbelief. Snape and Quirrell looked at Hermione in confusion as she explained, the former observing that the Muggleborn girl had a tight hold on the young Malfoy’s wrist. Noticing his professor’s scrutiny, Draco lowered his eyes, hoping Snape would direct his piercing stare elsewhere. That last thing he needed to worry about was whether Snape was going to report this to his father.

Moving forward, Hermione addressed the assembled professors in a remorseful tone, “I went looking for the troll. I read all about them and thought I could handle it. But I was wrong. If Harry, Ron, and Draco hadn’t come and found me, I’d probably be dead.”

“Be that as it may, it was an extremely foolish thing to do. I expected more rational behavior on your part and am extremely disappointed in you, Miss Granger. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgement.”

Draco saw Hermione bow her head a bit in shame as she stepped back beside him. He then felt Hermione reach out again and squeeze his wrist in comfort as McGonagall chastised her. He honestly couldn’t believe she had lied like that, but he wasn’t about to contradict the story she was trying to tell. He was barely paying attention to the rest of what McGonagall was saying until she announced that Harry, Ron, and Draco would be awarded five points each for, “sheer dumb luck.”

Professor Quirrell motioned for them to leave the bathroom and said, “Perhaps you ought to go. It might wake up.”

“Good of you for getting us out of trouble like that,” Harry said to Hermione as they exited the bathroom, walking side by side to the Gryffindor common room.

“Five points! She should have given us more. And, honestly, we did save her life!” Ron said exasperated.

“Mind you, she wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t insulted her,” Draco curtly informed Ron.

“What are friends for if not for insults and late-night troll rescues?” Ron inquired casually. They all looked around at one another and smiled. For the fact of the matter was, that Ron Weasley had just admitted the four of them were indeed, friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4 Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape, Quidditch, and a Holiday Break at the Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Public service announcement that Quidditch is HARD to write. This chapter took longer than expected because I worked my Beta overtime with my over description trying to get every detail right, even if it wasn't relevant to the story. Huge shout out to her for helping me! My favorite line in the entire story is in this chapter. 10 points to anyone who can guess it! lol 
> 
> Please enjoy!

After the events that transpired on Halloween, things calmed down for the four friends. Hermione and Draco spent many hours in the library reading and studying together. Ron spent most of his free time with Harry or playing wizard cards with the other Gryffindors. Harry, when not in class, was busy with Quidditch practice, the sport leaving him with little free time.

Every week Draco replied to his father’s letters as he had been bid, sharing irrelevant information or outlandish rumors about Harry. The system had been working until the day of the first school Quidditch match, when Snape requested to see Draco after class. 

The young wizard slowly packed up his cauldron and books before he approached his former mentor. Snape did not look up from the stack of parchment on his desk until every last student had filed out of the classroom, and he heard the door firmly shut.

“How are you adjusting, Draco?” Snape asked.

“Very well, Sir. Thank you,” Draco replied, trying to keep his voice even.

“And you enjoy being in Gryffindor house? I trust you are making friends?” Snape inquired again. Draco couldn’t tell if Snape was annoyed or simply interested in Draco’s life at Hogwarts.

“Yes, Sir,” Draco said, maintaining a neutral expression, despite how uncomfortable the line of questioning was making him.

“Tell me, how did your parents react when they found out you were in Gryffindor? Would you say they were--- supportive?” Snape’s flat tone starting to make Draco nervous. 

“They… have come to accept the circumstances,” Draco carefully replied.

“I see, then please enlighten me as to why your father has written to me on multiple occasions and asked me to confirm information you have given him about Mr. Potter?” Snape slowly raised his eyes and fixed Draco with a hard stare as he revealed the real reason for his interrogation. 

Draco gulped, his mouth felt as dry as parchment, leaving him unable answer.

“The truth, Draco. I don’t have all day,” Snape snapped, his irritation evident.

“I…he asked me to spy on Harry. Be his friend and then turn around and tell him what I had learned. He wanted to know everything, so I thought…” Draco struggled to explain but was interrupted. 

“You thought that you would make friends with Potter and then give your father false information. How could you possibly think that was a good idea?” Snape asked perturbed.

“It seemed pretty clever to me,” Draco mumbled indignantly.

“It was incredibly stupid!” Snape yelled.

“I’m just trying to stay in school, Professor. I love it here! I love learning, the library, the friends I’ve made,” Draco argued.

“Ah, yes. Along with Mr. Potter you have befriended Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, is that correct? I wonder how your father reacted when he found out your best friend was a mudblood,” Snape said unkindly.

“Don’t call her that!” Draco shouted, his voice ringing against the damp dungeon walls.

“Calm down, Draco,” Snape scolded, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“I just don’t see how it’s any of your business who I’m friends with. Are you reporting back to my father on what I do?” Draco confronted the Potions professor. When Lucius Malfoy set the terms of his demands that day in the headmaster’s office, Draco resigned himself to carry out the command. A necessary evil. What Draco did not anticipate was standing in opposition to a man he used to admire. The image he once had of Snape started to crack in light of his possible betrayal.

Snape rolled his eyes, “I am far too busy to engage in such trivial gossip.”

“Then why…” Draco tried to ask. 

“I simply wanted to caution you, Draco. Being friends with individuals like Mr. Potter and Miss Granger is going to… complicate your life, especially with your parents. I would advise you to be more selective about the information you share with your father, even if it isn’t true,” Snape said as he rose from his desk, dismissing the blonde from the classroom.

As Draco made his way distractedly to the Great Hall for lunch, Snape’s words echoed inside his head, especially the part where he warned about his association with Hermione. The conversation left him unsettled and wary for the future. He talked a great deal about her in his letters to his mother, but he had not once mentioned her in his weekly letters to his father. Had his father been reading both sets of correspondence? It was troubling to know that his mother hadn’t kept his confidence.

Once in the hall, Draco took a seat next to Ron and across from Harry, who was playing with his food. It didn’t help that Snape had made it a point to give the boy-who-lived a “pep talk”.

“Good Luck today, Potter,” he said, the words sounding like a threat in his silky voice. “Then again, now that you’ve proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you. Even if it is against Slytherin.”

When Snape walked away, Ron turned to Draco and questioned, “What was that all about? And why did he make you stay after?”

“My father has been writing Snape to ask if my letters were true,” Draco confided, “He… wanted to talk about them. He warned me to be cautious with what lies I tell in the future.”

“Well, that explains the blood,” Harry suddenly said. His eyes were fixated on Snape’s subtle limp as he walked towards the head table.

“Blood?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“The night we beat the troll. I’m guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try to get past that three-headed dog. It must have bit him,” Harry speculated.

“It’s certainly possible,” Draco agreed, nodding as he considered the other boy’s hypothesis. He had to admit that Harry’s motive made sense even if his logic was a bit lacking.

“But why would anyone go near that dog?” Hermione asked.

“The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. Said it was Hogwarts’ business, very secret,” Harry whispered, causing Hermione, Ron, and Draco to lean closer so as not to be overheard.

“So, you’re saying…” Hermione quietly gasped, but Harry cut her off.

“That’s what the dog is guarding. That’s what Snape wants!” Harry affirmed. He smiled like he was Sherlock Holmes who just figured out this great mystery. Draco was about to refute some of what Harry said, but was stopped when Harry’s snowy owl came flying into the Great Hall carrying a large and abnormally shaped package wrapped in parchment. 

Harry reached up and caught the package when Hermione said, “Bit early for mail, isn’t it?”

“But I never get mail,” Harry stated in shock.

“Let’s open it!” Ron suggested. The four gazed in wonderment upon seeing what was inside. 

“It’s a broomstick!” Harry said excitedly.

“That’s not just any broomstick, Harry,” Draco corrected.

“It’s a Nimbus 2000! The latest model!” Ron blurted.

“But who…” Harry trailed off when he noticed the stern transfiguration professor petting Hedwig. McGonagall smiled at Harry as he nodded in thanks to the head of their house for the gift.

____________________

The Quidditch stadium was packed with spectators who had come to see Harry Potter- the youngest seeker in a century- play his first Quidditch match. Ron, Draco, Hermione, and even Hagrid, were cheering for Harry from the Gryffindor stands.

“Hello! And welcome to Hogwarts’ first Quidditch game of the season. Today’s game is Slytherin versus Gryffindor!” Lee Jordan announced from the commentator’s box, “The players take their position as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field!” Draco could see the flying instructor’s broom resting on the field next to a chest of Quidditch balls like the ones Draco had borrowed to teach Harry the basics about a month ago.

“The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember the Snitch is worth 150 points. The Seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game. The Quaffle is released and the game begins!” Lee Jordan shouted, as a swarm of red and green robes mobbed the ball.

One of the Gryffindor chasers, Angelina Johnson, managed to grab the Quaffle and score the first goal of the match. Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin team, had taken possession and was attempting to make a goal. Johnson tried to come up from behind to grab the Quaffle out of Flint’s grasp, but he kicked her, sending the chaser into a spiral before she regained control of the broom.

“How is that allowed?! Foul!” Draco and Ron kept shouting.

“Honestly, I don’t see how you two can follow this,” Hermione jumped, startled by Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor keeper, blocking Flint’s attempted goal. 

“It’s all very quick, love. You just have to observe the field,” Draco said. Quidditch was the only thing that he and Hermione could not come to an understanding on. Draco thought the sport confused her, so he tried to teach her more about it during one of their study sessions in the library. She politely took the book he recommended, wanting to learn about the sport that captivated her best friend, but she just wasn’t as into the game as Draco.

“Don’t worry if you don’t understand, Hermione. Just cheer when we cheer,” Ron advised when he saw Flint take one of his beater’s bats and hit a Bludger right into Wood’s chest. Boos reverberated through the stands, except for the Slytherins who laughed. 

Taking out the Gryffindor keeper was only the beginning of the Slytherin team’s antics, as they pushed Katie Bell into one of the field’s corner posts and then tried to knock George Weasley off his broom. Hermione pulled out large binoculars and a quill, recording all the dirty moves employed.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked her.

“Documenting,” Hermione stated simply as she continued to scribble on the parchment.

“What’s going on with Harry’s broomstick?” Hagrid suddenly asked behind them.

Ron, Draco, and Hermione looked up to see that Harry’s broom was going bonkers, as if it was trying to buck him off. 

“Someone’s jinxing his broom,” Draco said in shock.

“What? Who?” Ron asked in disbelief.

Hermione abruptly leaned in to the two boys to whisper, “It’s Snape!”

“That’s impossible, Hermione. Snape wouldn’t…” Draco tried to defend, but Hermione cut him off.

“I saw him. Here!” She handed Draco the binoculars so he could look for himself. 

“What do we do?” Ron asked.

“Leave it to me,” Hermione stated confidently as she turned and pushed her way through the crowd.

Draco pointed the binoculars towards the teachers’ box looking for Snape. He stared in incredulity as his old mentor muttered an incantation over and over again.

“She’s right. It is Snape,” Draco said defeated. He lost all hope that Harry’s perception of Snape was a misunderstanding in that moment. First, Snape had been corresponding with Lucius behind Draco’s back. Second, he tried to get past the Cerberus for, still, unknown reasons. And now, he was attempting to kill Harry for interfering. Draco’s stomach twisted at the revelation when he heard the entire stadium gasp. Harry’s broom had thrown him off, the boy dangling from the handle for dear life. _Come on Hermione!_ He thought frantically.

Draco returned to observing Snape. The Potions professor unexpectedly stood up, stomping on the end of his robe. A wide smile spread across Draco's face when he realized that Hermione had managed to set Snape's robe on fire! 

“Harry’s broom stopped jerking! He got back on!” Ron screamed to Draco.

“Clever witch!” Draco declared with pride in his voice. Harry was now gliding neck and neck with the Slytherin seeker. They were both taking a nosedive, following the Snitch, when the Slytherin seeker disengaged. Harry made a risky move by pulling his broom up at the last minute before riding it like a surfboard as he reached for the Snitch. It was almost in his grasp when he stepped forward too far and fell off his broom, tumbling to the ground. Everyone watched on pins and needles as Harry shakily stood up.

“Looks like he’s going to be sick!” Hagrid cried when Harry spit something out. 

“He’s caught the Snitch! Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!” Lee Jordan announced, ecstatic at the house’s victory.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, sounding the end of the game, and shouted, “Gryffindor wins!”

The entire stadium, minus Slytherin house, erupted in deafening applause and cheers as Harry held up the Snitch. 

The common room would be having a party to celebrate, but Harry couldn’t stop coughing after nearly swallowing the Snitch. The young seeker was nursing a cup of tea at Hagrid’s hut when his friends told him everything that had happened during the match.

“Nonsense! Why would Professor Snape put a curse on Harry’s broom?” Hagrid asked.

“Don’t know. Why would Snape try to get past that three-headed dog?” Harry questioned Hagrid.

“Who told you about Fluffy?” Hagrid asked concerned.

Draco snorted at the same time Ron repeated, “Fluffy?”

“That thing has a name?” Hermione asked perplexed.

“‘Course, he’s got a name. He’s mine! Bought him off a fellow I met down in the pub las’ year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-” Hagrid trailed off, trying to, unsuccessfully end the conversation.

“Yes?” Harry prompted.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Hagrid muttered to himself. He set a hot kettle down in the middle of the table before turning to the four and gruffly demanded, “No more questions! Don’t ask any more questions. That’s top-secret, that is.”

“But Hagrid! Whatever Fluffy is guarding, Snape is trying to steal it!” Harry insisted.

“Codswallop. Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher. He’d do nothin’ of the sort,” Hagrid reiterated.

“Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a spell when I see one. I’ve read all about them. You have got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn’t blinking!” Hermione expressed.

“I didn’t want to believe it either, Hagrid. But I saw it, too! Hermione’s right,” Draco affirmed.

“Now, you listen to me, all four of you. You’re meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. It’s dangerous! What that dog is guarding is strictly between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel,” Hagrid declared hotly.

“Nicholas Flamel? Who’s Nicholas Flamel?” Harry asked confused.

Hagrid looked furious and instantly berated himself for having given them a clue. The conversation cut the celebratory teatime short. 

_____________________

Before long, it was December, and winter break would be starting the next day. Students who were returning home for the holiday frantically packed their trunks and said goodbye to friends they would not see until after the New Year. Draco and Hermione strolled down to the Great Hall, towing their trunks behind them. They spotted Harry and Ron playing a game of Wizard Chess at the Gryffindor table.

“Knight to E-5,” Harry commanded, causing the piece to magically move on the board.

“Queen to E-5,” Ron said confidently. His queen violently raised her throne, destroying Harry’s knight and knocking it off the board.

“Nice move, Weasley,” Draco said with approval.

“That’s totally barbaric!” Hermione cried out.

“That’s wizard’s chess, love,” Draco said winking at her, causing Hermione to scrunch her nose the way she often did when she was annoyed.

“I see you two have packed,” Ron said, pointing to Hermione’s and Draco’s trunks.

“I see you haven’t,” Hermione retorted.

“Ron decided to stay for the break,” Draco said to Hermione.

“Change of plans. My parents went to Romania to visit my brother Charlie. He’s studying dragons there,” Ron explained.

“Good. You can help Harry then. He’s going to search the library for information on Nicholas Flamel,” Hermione stated.

“We’ve looked a hundred times!” Ron objected.

Hermione leaned across the table and countered in a whisper, “Not in the restricted section.”

Draco and Hermione grabbed the handles of their trunks and waved goodbye to their friends, wishing them a happy Christmas. When the two friends were walking out of the Great Hall to the carriages, Hermione shot Draco a look in response to his soft chuckling, “What?”

“Why Hermione, I do believe you just advised Harry to break into the restricted section of the library. Who knew that having three boys as friends would have such a bad influence on you?” Draco teased.

Hermione playfully stuck her tongue out at Draco and said, “I said nothing of the sort. I simply suggested he try the restricted section. How he gets in is strictly open to interpretation.”

______________________

Draco felt like he had been living in a dream, albeit a good dream, and the train ride home was like a splash of cold water on his face. He would be spending the Yule break at the manor, which meant he would have to survive under the same roof as his father. It was a daunting prospect, but one he would have to endure for only two weeks. Before he could dwell any further on the situation, the train pulled into Kings Cross Station. The steam expelled from the slowing locomotive obscured the platform, masking the view inside the train. Draco took advantage of the cover to quickly hug Hermione goodbye, promising he would see her in the new year.

Once he left her, Draco met his mother on the platform and embraced her heartily. 

“I have missed you, my dragon. While your letters have been most comforting, it is no substitute for your presence,” Narcissa Malfoy said as she leaned down and kissed her son’s cheek.

“Mother…” Draco whined as he whipped his cheek with the back of his hand. His annoyance faltered when he observed the sad expression adorning his mother’s face, “Please don’t embarrass me,” he begged, “I’m just… not a little kid anymore.”

“I know, sweetheart. Come. Let’s head home. I’ve already instructed Dobby to collect your trunk,” Narcissa said as she placed an arm around Draco’s shoulders so that she could apparate them back to the manor, “I want to hear more about your first term. Tell me all about your classes.”

Draco talked animatedly about his lessons as his mother listened keenly. They landed just outside the anti-apparition wards (the location chosen on purpose, no doubt, by his mother so that she could spend more time with him) near the end of a long, gravel driveway leading to the ornate manor entrance. The magical barrier encompassed the entire property, preventing any unwanted intrusion. During their stroll, Draco’s gaze wandered over the well-manicured grounds which were covered in a light snow as expected for the season; the sight gave him a sense of nostalgia. 

Walking through the entrance hall sent a chill down Draco’s spine that was not from the cold. Unlike the inviting walls of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the grand receiving room of the manor was decorated with priceless tapestries and lined with ancient suits of armor. The dark, gothic molding accented the black and white checkered marble floor. The ceiling was supported by large stone columns spaced along the perimeter, and an artistic mural that stretched the entire length of the room. The imagery was equally intimidating and contributed to the opulent atmosphere.

“Are you happy to be home, my dragon?” Narcissa asked her son.

Draco forced a small smile and looked up at his mother, “Yes, thank you.”

“You must be exhausted from the train ride. Why don’t you go upstairs to your room and rest before dinner? It will be ready in a few hours, and your father should be home by then,” Narcissa said.

Draco quickly hugged his mother before he ran up the stairs to the second floor. He slept in his own private suite that was just off the staircase and down a hallway on the right. Family portraits welcomed him home all the way to his bedroom. When Draco opened the door, he was happy to see that his room was exactly as he had left it back in September.

The ebony, four poster bed was made up with a rich green velvet duvet. His matching bookshelf in the corner displaying Draco’s personal library and favorite collections was completely free of dust. Next to his bookshelf was the desk where he had spent many hours completing lessons with private tutors.

Looking at the sparse space, Draco couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholy about his childhood. Even though it was not nearly as miserable as Harry’s, it also hadn’t been as loving and carefree as Ron’s. He had lived though most of it alone and afraid of his father. He would occasionally have play dates (Theo being the most frequent) with children of his mother’s friends, or he would play with his father’s house elf in secret. But for the most part, Draco was left on his own. Hermione grew up similarly. She told him one day in the library that she didn’t have any friends to miss from her muggle school since she was ostracized for her intelligence. When she came to Hogwarts, her greatest wish was to have friends instead of only the company of a book. Sharing and relating to the loneliness of each other’s past was one of the reasons they really connected.

Draco was always very curious and wanted to read or learn more beyond what he was being taught. Even though his father went to great lengths to censor the curriculum delivered by his tutors, Draco could periodically convince them to slip him books with different perspectives. That’s how he learned about the war and the blood purity movement. His mother would never talk politics, but his father constantly reminded him of what his blood status meant and the responsibilities he would have to embrace in society when he was older.

It was through one of these illicit texts that he had learned about Lord Voldemort and his quest for domination over the wizarding world. Though there was not much information regarding the reasons behind the pureblood ideology, Draco was able to deduce from the reading that it had something to do with some wizards being disgruntled over the changing ministry policies regarding muggles and muggleborns. The one thing from that book that had been burned into his memory was an illustration of the tattoo with which Lord Voldemort branded his inner circle of followers. The skull and snake magically placed on the inner left forearm was known as the Dark Mark. It was apparently meant to symbolize immortality and the image was identical to the one he had seen on his father.

One day, a couple of months before Draco was to leave for Hogwarts, Lucius was giving him a lesson on their family heritage and how his blood lines comprised a small, but superior portion of the wizarding population known as the sacred twenty-eight. According to his father, these families were the only remaining families in Great Britain that were truly pure of blood. As his father was lecturing that day, Draco got up the courage to ask him if the tattoo on his forearm was indeed the Dark Mark and what it meant.

Instead of yelling at Draco, Lucius very calmly rolled up his left sleeve and explained what the mark did and how it was connected to the family. He explained that the Malfoy and Black families had been supporters of the blood purity movement for years, and that Voldemort (or as Lucius called him, the Dark Lord), was simply the figure head. Under his leadership, the wizarding world would be cleansed of the threat posed by those who did not “belong.”

Just thinking about his father’s response made Draco shudder with fear. What was even more alarming was the conversation that had followed. Draco had asked if he would one day be expected to take the mark, to which his father carefully replied, “To do so would be an honor to yourself and to the family.”

Draco was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a crack as Mini, one of their family’s house elves, popped into his bedroom.

“Mini was told to summon Young Master for dinner,” the elf said.

“Thanks, Mini. I’ll be down in a minute,” Draco replied. 

The house elf bowed before snapping her fingers, disappearing from the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, Draco got off the bed as he prepared himself for the inquisition he was bound to be subjected to by his father.

_______________________________

The Malfoys were situated around the table with Lucius at the head, Narcissa on his left, and Draco on his right. The family of three had eaten their first course in silence. Once the soup course had been served, Lucius turned to Draco and asked, “How are you, my son?”

“I am well father. Thank you,” Draco politely replied. He had learned at a young age to be guarded with his father. Stalling followed by the polite formality were classic Lucius Malfoy tactics used to extract the information he wanted.

“Your mother and I are very happy to have you home for the holiday. She was worried you might elect to stay at the school with your new friends,” Lucius stoically declared. Draco did not respond.

“Draco was telling me about his classes earlier this afternoon. He is excelling, of course, in all his subjects,” Narcissa interjected.

“Quite right. Excelling, but not first in his year. You are placing second, to a mudblood no less. Completely unacceptable, Draco,” Lucius chastised him.

Draco clinched his jaw to keep from yelling at his father. Ever since Hermione told him that the word was a slur, he had hated hearing it, especially when it was being used to refer to her. He knew very well his father was talking about Hermione.

“Still, we are both very proud of you, my dragon,” Narcissa said before taking a bite of her creamy potato soup.

“Thank you,” Draco said to his mother.

“Tell me, Draco. Are you perhaps spending too much time socializing and not enough time on your studies? Your house isn’t becoming a distraction, is it?” Lucius pointedly asked.

“No, father. I’m in the library more often than my common room,” Draco said, refusing to meet Lucius’s piercing gaze.

“Is that so? And are actually studying or fraternizing with a friend, perhaps?” Lucius continued with his line of questioning, “I believe you told your mother you spend a great deal of time with Miss Granger, a mudblood.”

“Lucius,” Narcissa warned as Draco spoke up at the same time.

“Hermione is incredibly clever. She is interested in the same subjects I am and is a great study partner,” Draco spat. He was losing his patience.

“Study partner? Draco, how can you not see? This mudblood is inferior and clearly using you!” Lucius raised his voice.

“Stop calling her that!” Draco yelled back.

“Draco, you will not shout at the table,” Narcissa chastised, but it was no use.

“What did you just say?” Lucius challenged.

“I said, stop calling her that name! She’s done nothing wrong! She’s my friend. I don’t understand how you can hate someone for something they can’t control. You’ve never even met her!” Draco defended Hermione, his voice growing louder with every sentence. Each retort caused Lucius’s eyes to darken, and Draco was panting from the outburst when his father finally spoke.

“You are dismissed from this table. Immediately,” Lucius’s tone was low and threatening, leaving no room for further argument.

Draco abruptly shoved his chair away from the table causing the legs to scrape loudly across the floor, “Fine! It’s not like I wanted to continue eating anyway.”

After Draco left the dining room, presumably going to his room, Narcissa sighed and turned to her husband to ask, “Why did you do that?”

“Cissa…” Lucius started to say but was interrupted by his wife.

“No! You know perfectly well you were antagonizing him. So, he has some muggle born friends at school. It’s not something you need to badger your son about,” Narcissa reprimanded.

“Yes, it is! As soon as I saw the house rosters, I was concerned. Gryffindor House is brimming with people of low breeding and no influence. Judging by his behavior tonight, I was right! I should have pulled him out of Hogwarts,” Lucius growled back at his wife.

Narcissa calmly set her spoon down, “You were never going to pull Draco out of school. Doing so would have jeopardized your position with the Board of Governors and, quite frankly, been even more of an embarrassment to the family.” 

Rubbing his temple to ease the forming headache, Lucius took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Arguments were rare in the Malfoy household, but they were often explosive when they did occur.

Narcissa reached out to hold her husband’s free hand, “Why are you so adamant for Draco to embrace the pureblood ideology?”

He squeezed her hand back, “Because the Dark Lord…”

“The Dark Lord is gone!” Narcissa insisted, “He can’t hurt you or our family anymore.”

“You and I both know he isn’t truly gone. The Mark never went away. He could return one day. If…when that happens, I want Draco to willingly accept it. It’s the only way to keep our family together and alive,” Lucius declared somberly.

“The only thing you are accomplishing is making your own son terrified of you. I know you tried to keep him from reading about the war, but he clearly possessed some knowledge about the subject prior to Hogwarts. Besides, he is certainly bound to learn about the topic eventually. He knows that Bellatrix, my sister…his aunt, is a mass murderer. He thinks you are just like her when you are not! You can’t keep the truth hidden. Tell him your story. He loves you. He will understand,” Narcissa implored, but Lucius shook his head.

“Maybe I will have that conversation with him when he is older,” He vaguely conceded to his wife, “I’m sorry for causing a scene at dinner tonight.”

“I forgive you, my love,” she brought his hand up to her lips and gently kissed his knuckles, “Please apologize to Draco tonight.”

Lucius nodded before rising from the table and kissing his wife on the forehead. It seemed he owed his son a visit.

__________________________

Draco was laying on his bed when he heard a small knock on his door, “Come in,” he called.

Lucius slowly walked in and sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed. There was an awkward silence as Lucius chose the appropriate words. Deciding to keep it simple, he began, “I came to apologize; I did not mean to upset you on your first day home.”

“I just don’t understand why you are against the muggle born wizards and witches. You’ve told me my entire life they are inferior, but Hermione is living proof that is a lie!” Draco exclaimed. 

Lucius sighed before patting his son’s leg, “It is difficult to articulate why I hold these beliefs. I’ve devoted my entire life to this cause, Draco. One does not simply abandon an ideology after generations of support to that ideal.”

“If you would just meet her, see how clever and kind she is,” Draco pleaded, but his father shook his head.

“That is not possible, son. I’m sorry. Perhaps one day, when you are older, you will understand.”

The subject was abandoned for the evening as Lucius rose to exit the bedroom. It bothered Draco that his father was unwilling to meet Hermione, but he had a more important task to try and accomplish this winter break.

“Father?” he called out.

Lucius turned to his son from the doorway when Draco asked, “Do you know anything about a wizard named Nicholas Flamel?”

“Where did you hear that name?” Lucius asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Just around school,” Draco replied casually. 

After a few minutes of silence, Lucius blinked and responded, “No, I’m afraid I have not. Goodnight, son.”

When his father shut the door, Draco shot up and immediately wrote a brief letter to Harry advising him to check the restricted section as soon as possible. After giving the letter to the owl that was perched on his balcony, Draco went back to laying on his bed. He stared at his ceiling for hours, contemplating why his father had lied to him about Flamel before succumbing to sleep.

_____________________________

The rest of Draco’s break at the manor was relatively uneventful. His father did not attempt to relitigate his friendship with Hermione, nor did he ask about Harry or Ron. As was tradition, his mother threw the annual Malfoy New Year’s Eve soiree that was attended by many elite wizards and ministry officials. All purebloods, of course.

The only thing that Draco hated more than having to dress up and make “polite” conversation with people he couldn’t care less about, was that he would be expected to socialize with Nott, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Ten minutes before guest were expected to arrive, his mother straightened his tie and escorted him down to the entrance hall where Lucius was already waiting. The family formed a receiving line where Draco shook hands with a forced smile as people asked him questions about his schooling and potential career prospects. It was incredibly awkward for Draco to greet his classmates from different houses, especially Nott and Zabini.

After everyone had arrived, his mother and father went to mingle, while Draco hung out along the wall of the ballroom. He absolutely hated these events. The only thing that had made them bearable in the past was Theo and Blaise, but now, they were enemies. Speaking of the Devil…

“Malfoy,” Theo said as he leaned against the wall next to Draco. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle remained in the corner on the opposite side of the room.

“Nott,” Draco acknowledged tersely. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be like that. We were friends at one point,” Theo pleaded.

“Key word being, ‘were’,” Draco replied.

“Oh, you get sorted into Gryffindor and become friends with Potter, and now all of a sudden you are holier than thou?” Theo asked annoyed.

“I can’t remain friends with people who call my other friends mudbloods and blood traitors,” Draco replied curtly.

“Even though they are. Did you not get a family lesson? Do you even remember where you come from?” Nott echoed Draco’s tone.

“Where I come from doesn’t define who I am!” Draco yelled a little louder than he had intended, causing some of the guests to turn their heads toward the boys’ argument. Before Theo could respond, Lucius was suddenly standing in front of them.

“I suggest that you keep your tone in check and not cause a disturbance.”

“I apologize, Mr. Malfoy. I meant no disrespect,” Nott said.

“Sorry, father,” Draco added.

“There you are Lucius! It’s almost midnight, which means it’s time for you to give the toast,” Narcissa said as she gently pulled her husband to the center of the ballroom.

Five minutes to midnight, and people were gathering around the couple as Lucius held up a glass of champagne and addressed the room. Draco tuned out what his father was saying when Nott leaned down and whispered in his ear, “You’re going to have to make a choice, Draco. You can’t be friends with mudbloods and be friends with me. Take your pick. Us or them?”

_Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven._

The room kept counting down as Draco turned to face Nott and look him directly in the eye. Theo was trying to push Draco into a corner, force him to renounce his new friends and go back to the way things had been before Hogwarts. The young Slytherin evidently wasn’t very clever, for he obviously didn’t learn that you should never tickle a sleeping dragon.

_Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One._

“Them,” Draco clearly said as everyone else in the room shouted and cheered, “Happy New Year!”

Draco could see Nott’s jaw had dropped, illuminated by the magical fireworks that were displayed on the ballroom ceiling.

Nott recovered from Draco’s response as he gritted his teeth while Draco crossed his arms and smirked, pleased with the other boy’s reaction.

“You made the wrong choice, Malfoy. I’d watch your back if I were you,” Theo threatened before leaving. Not feeling very festive, Draco soon retreated to his room only to find an owl was perched on his walk-out balcony ledge. Retrieving the letter clutched in the animal’s beak, he smiled when he saw the handwriting on the envelope.

_Draco,_

_I hope this finds you before midnight, but I just wanted to write and tell you I miss you._

_Happy New Year!_

_I can’t wait to see you on the train in a few days._

_Always your friend,_

_H.G._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys a pheromonal! Thank you so much for the kind comments and kudos! I do respond to every one and greatly appreciate it! Happy New Year!


	5. Chapter 5 Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery of Nicholas Flamel is solved and Norbert the Dragon makes an appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the love on this story!!!!! The comments and kudos seriously make my day! 
> 
> My favorite line in the entire story from the last chapter was the one about Draco saying Theo obviously didn't learn to never tickle a sleeping dragon. LOL! I thought it was a great nod to the Hogwarts motto. 
> 
> Special thanks to my sister for being my beta. You guys really should give her flowers or candy for how much she has to put up with me. :)

Draco did not regret the decision he made the night of the party. The conversation with Theo left him upset and worried for his friends’ safety, but they were concerns he filed away to deal with when other matters were not taking precedent. His remaining days of the Yule break were spent raiding his family’s library trying to find any information about Flamel. He was thoroughly convinced that whatever was under the trap door, Snape was after it, and Flamel was the key. As luck would have it, his mother presented him with the solution on the Friday after New Year.

Concerned about how much of the holiday her son had spent hunched over musty books, Narcissa frowned slightly when she observed him nearly buried in parchment, carefully flipping ancient pages as he squinted at their faded text. Knowing she would be unable to persuade him to abandon his quest, even temporarily, she tried a different tact, “Are you looking for something particular, dear? Perhaps I can help.”

Grateful for her offer, Draco asked, “Do you know a wizard named Nicholas Flamel?”

Narcissa perused the open books spread across the table and smiled. Her son had pulled many different texts covering a variety of topics, but there was one notable absence. Seeking to remedy the situation, she walked over to a shelf in the far-right corner of the room and selected a book from the very bottom, “You might want to try this.”

It was titled, _Not Fools Gold, Correcting Historical Inaccuracies about Alchemy_.

“What’s this?” Draco inquired, taking the small text in his hand. The smooth red cover and stiff spine made it seem as if the book had never been read.

“Just a book about the history of the art of Alchemy. I believe it will aid you in your search. Are you ready to return to school on Sunday?” Narcissa probed, changing the topic.

“All my robes and school supplies are packed in my trunk,” Draco replied, disinterested in the conversation as he sat down in his favorite leather chair and opened the book to the first page.

“Oh my. Then you probably don’t have any room for these,” Narcissa joked, holding up a bag of sweets from Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop in Diagon Alley.

“Are those…” Draco tried to ask but Narcissa interrupted him.

“All your favorites, my dragon. I’m curious when you started liking pink coconut ice?”

Draco ignored his mother’s question in favor of opening the bag to see a variety of cauldron cakes, Bertie-Botts Every Flavored Beans™, and the pink coconut ice he had requested. A slight blush spread across his cheeks when he softly responded, “It’s for my friend. Thank you, mother.”

Narcissa didn’t say anything as she smiled and embraced her son before leaving the room.

____________________

Draco practically sprinted to the red brick wall between the numbered signs 9 and 10 at the station. He couldn’t wait to get on the train and head back to school, but more importantly, he couldn’t wait to see Hermione again.

“Slow down, my dragon,” Narcissa laughed, “I know you are excited, but it will do you no good to get hurt.”

“Sorry, mother,” Draco apologized, jogging through the wall to the other side of the platform.

He left his cart and luggage with the porter before turning around to say his goodbye. 

“I love you, Draco. I’ll see you in July,” She assured before kissing the top of his head.

“I love you too, mother,” Draco replied sincerely.

He ran up the steps and started searching the compartments for Hermione. She was sitting in a section filled with first years.

“Draco!” She cried, setting her book down and jumping up from her seat to hug him.

“Hey, Hermione!” Draco chuckled hugging her back.

“It’s so good to see you! How are you doing?” She inquired. They sat down across from one another next to the window.

“Better now that we are going back. Oh, I got a surprise for you!” He informed her, pulling out the bag of sweets from his mother.

“Is that pink coconut ice?” she examined the package, her eyes widening in delight. 

“Yes, it’s your favorite, right?” Draco confirmed before handing her the candy.

Hermione’s smile radiated pure happiness as she took the small bag of pink squares out of Draco’s outstretched hand, “Yes! But don’t tell my parents.”

“Why not?” Draco inquired curiously, choosing a cauldron cake for himself. 

“They’re dentists and don’t approve of me eating a lot of sweets,” she replied nonchalantly. 

“Dentists? What is that?” Draco asked confused by the muggle terminology.

“It’s a doctor… sorry, healer. A healer that specialized in treating teeth,” Hermione explained.

“Oh! You mean an Oral Healer for muggles. I had to go see one when I was a little for accidently biting an Acid Pop. I can see why they would disapprove,” Draco laughed.

Hermione was stunned, almost speechless, as she processed what Draco had just said. Opening up about her life as a muggle was a line she was quickly learning whether or not to cross as she formed relationships with her classmates. Sometimes her “odd” comments were simply ignored. Others were met with hostility, most likely from a lack of understanding or prejudicial beliefs. The main culprits came in the form of Pansy Parkinson and Romilda Vane.

Pansy, the disagreeable, pureblooded Slytherin girl, often taunted Hermione for her studiousness. While Hermione had no problem taking the highroad and ignoring the pug-faced witch, Draco, Ron, or even Harry had no qualms protecting Hermione from the girl’s vile comments. Just thinking about their steadfast defenses made Hermione smile. When It came to Romilda Vane, that was a more delicate matter. Privacy simply wasn’t possible when sharing a room with four other girls. Inevitably, things that were not meant to be shared became common knowledge or fodder for the gossip mill. Romilda, also being a pureblooded witch, was brash and unapologetic about her criticisms of Hermione’s mannerisms. While Hermione didn’t think Romilda was being mean on purpose, and probably even believed she was doing her a favor by helping “integrate” her into wizarding society, her unsolicited advice left Hermione feeling like she had to compartmentalize and hide parts of her identity. When compared to her friendship with Draco, he didn’t make her feel as if she had to live two different lives. His honest curiosity and open acceptance was like a breath of fresh air, blowing away the insecurities that threatened to take root inside her mind. 

Realizing she was still staring at him, Hermione blinked, recovering from her internal reflection to squeak out, “Yes, exactly!”

Draco smirked to himself, pleased that his present made her happy as the train started to pull away from the station. The two had settled into occasional conversation, simply enjoying each other’s company. They were completely unaware that Narcissa Malfoy had watched the entire interaction from the platform. This was the first glimpse she had of the muggleborn who had captured her son’s attention. She was sure this wouldn’t be the last time she would see Hermione Granger. She only worried that Draco’s association with someone of her status would cause trouble for him.

___________________

The Christmas holiday came and went along with the snow and winter season. Spring, though a somewhat joyous occasion, brought with it frantic students studying and preparing for the end of the year exams. One day in the library, Harry and Ron were catching Draco and Hermione up on their epic Christmas adventure with Harry being gifted a real invisibility cloak and using it to discover a mirror that showed what the viewer truly desired. Hermione gave the boys a disapproving look for breaking curfew, even if the consequences were not all that serious given that it was the holiday. While Draco was sad to hear that Harry had been unsuccessful in the restricted section, he was happy to inform the others that his search on Flamel in the manor proved fruitful.

“No wonder we couldn’t find any information on him! The man’s an alchemist!” Ron exclaimed.

“What’s an alchemist?” Harry asked.

“It’s someone that studies alchemy, an ancient and complicated branch of magic. It focuses on magical composition as well as the transmutation of substances, usually with gold or silver,” Draco explained, “Hogwarts doesn’t really teach the subject. Every once in a while, the course is available as an elective, if there are enough upper-class students interested.” 

Hermione was quickly turning the pages of the book from the manor, “Of course! Here it is! ‘Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone’. “

“The what?” Ron and Harry asked at the same time.

“Honestly, don’t you two read?” Hermione asked perturbed. She rolled her eyes at the boys when they didn’t respond and continued, “The Philosopher’s Stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. It’ll transform any metal into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life which will make the drinker immortal.”

“Immortal?” Ron asked.

“It means you’ll never die,” Draco clarified.

“I know what it means!” Ron snapped, slightly offended. Harry shushed him and motioned for Hermione to continue.

“‘The only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist who last year celebrated his 665th birthday!’ I bet that’s what Fluffy’s guarding. That’s what is under the trap door! The Philosopher’s Stone!” Hermione theorized.

“That’s if it’s real. Most people believe it’s a myth,” Draco pointed out, leaving the table to discuss while he put a reference book away. He wasn’t looking where he was going and accidently ran into Hagrid.

“Oi, careful there, Malfoy. Yer alright?”

“I’m okay. What are you doing in the library, Hagrid?” Draco asked once he had regained his balance.

Hagrid got very uncomfortable with the question and started to shift his feet. Draco noticed he was trying to conceal something behind his back when he replied, “Jus’ lookin’. Was wonderin’ if yeh could help me with somethin’.”

Draco nodded as Hagrid whispered, “I’m lookin’ for some books abou’ dragons.”

“I know exactly what book you need! Follow me!” Draco smiled as he led Hagrid to a different shelf a few aisles down. “Here,” Draco offered, handing two books to the Gamekeeper, “ _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland_ is very detailed and has the best illustrations of any guide I’ve read. My personal favorite, though, is _From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon’s Keepers Guide_. Even though dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention in 1709, I find the text absolutely fascinating!”

Hagrid accepted the books with his free hand and placed them in the oversized pocket of his jacket with a smile. He was turning to leave when he leaned down and whispered to Draco, “Best keep this between you and me, eh?”

Confused, Draco nodded and watched as the large man shuffled out of the library. _Odd_ , Draco thought to himself as he rejoined his friends at their table.

“Good, you’re back. We’ve decided to confront Hagrid about the stone, tonight,” Harry informed Draco. It would be the night they would get the answers to all their questions.

_________________________

The quartet left about halfway through dinner so as not to draw too much attention to themselves or their mission. They quickly jogged across the school grounds to the edge of the Forbidden Forrest where Hagrid’s hut was located. Curtains were drawn over all the windows so that no outside observer could see inside. Indeed, the only indication that Hagrid was home, was the smoke coming from the chimney. Undeterred, Harry walked up the steps first and knocked firmly on the heavy wooden door. 

Hagrid slowly opened the door and peered out to find the four young Gryffindor’s on his doorstep, “Oh, hello! Sorry, don’t wish to be rude, but I’m in no fit state to entertain today.”

“We know about the Philosopher’s Stone,” the four called out in unison, the revelation caused Hagrid to freeze, leaving his eyes wide and full of fear.

“Oh,” the half-giant croaked, reluctantly letting Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione into the abode.

“We think Snape is trying to steal it,” Harry blurted out, taking off his cloak. The boy-who-lived wasted no time with pleasantries and got straight to business.

“Snape? Yer not still on abou’ him, are yeh?” Hagrid asked. He was getting really annoyed with their meddling and accusations about the professor.

“We know he’s after the stone, we just don’t know why,” Harry revealed as he sat down on the bench next to a large black cauldron hanging in the well-lit fireplace. Ron claimed the spot next to Harry while Hermione and Draco shared the oversized recliner adjacent to the boys.

“Snape is one of the teachers protecting the stone! He’s not about ter steal it!” Hagrid repeated.

The four shared a look, confused by Hagrid’s adamant defense, “What do you mean?” Harry asked for clarification.

“Yeh heard me. Alright, come on, now. I’m a bit preoccupied today,” Hagrid said as he tried to shoo the students out the door. Draco wasn’t paying attention to Harry’s line of questioning, for he was a little distracted by the fact that Fang, Hagrid’s Neapolitan Mastiff, was currently drooling down Ron’s left shoulder.

“Wait a minute! ‘ _One_ of the Teachers’? Who else knows about the stone?” Harry demanded.

“Well, besides Snape… there’s Professor Sprout- Professor Flitwick- Professor McGonagall- “Hagrid had his hand raised as if he was trying to tick them off on his fingers, but the young wizards could not see the number due to the fact that he was wearing oven mitts, “Professor Quirrell- an’ Dumbledore, o’ course.”

“Of course! There are other things defending the stone, aren’t there?! Spells. Enchantments,” Hermione exclaimed. Draco started to laugh while Hermione’s face scrunched in disgust at Fang enthusiastically licking Ron’s face.

“That’s right! Yer wasting yer bloody time, if yeh ask me. Ain’t no one gonna get past Fluffy,” Hagrid chuckled, “Ain’t a soul knows how, except for me and Dumbledore.”

Hagrid started to mumble that he shouldn’t have told them that when something started to rattle inside the cauldron. All four sets of eyes turned their attention to the large egg being pulled out of the cauldron. They gathered around, watching the shiny, brown shell jiggle on the wooden tabletop.

“Is that what I think it is?” Draco speculated. His voice laced in amazement rather than posing an actual question. 

“Hagrid, what exactly is that?” Harry asked cautiously.

“That? It’s ah…” Hagrid stuttered but was cut off by Ron.

“I know what that is! It’s a dragon egg!” Ron exclaimed. He and Draco made eye contact across the table. Both their eyes were wide with excitement.

“So that’s why you needed the books about dragons! How did you get one?” Draco inquired, not taking his eyes off the egg. Ron and Draco were both so captivated by the egg that neither of them noticed the fear evident on Hermione’s and Harry’s faces.

“I won it! Off a stranger I met down in the pub. Seemed quite glad to be rid of it, as a matter of fact,” Hagrid explained as a sharp cracking noise suddenly filled the small hut.

Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Ron all leaned away from the table, holding their breath as the egg started to shake and move. The shell violently split open, spewing broken pieces across the room. Emerging from the confined space was a slimy, jet black and scaly creature. One of its long, boney wings stretched high into the air while its eyes blinked to adjust to the light of the room.

They all watched in fascination as the dragon repositioned itself and examined its surroundings, making small squeaky noises. Looking in between Ron and Hagrid, the dragon sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Hagrid murmured with affection. He reached out to stroke the dragon’s head.

“That’s a Norwegian Ridgeback! My brother Charlie works with these in Romania,” Ron declared as the dragon continued to coo under Hagrid’s affections.

“Oh, bless him. Look, he knows his mummy! Hello there Norbert,” Hagrid lovingly sighed.

“Norbert?” Harry asked confused.

“He’s gotta have a name, don’ he?” Hagrid replied, tickling the dragon under the chin. The action caused the dragon to sneeze, again. This time, a small ball of fire shot right into Hagrid’s beard.

Hermione gasped as Hagrid tried to put out his smoldering hair. Draco was laughing at the antic when Hagrid abruptly called out, “Who’s that?”

The quartet turned around in unison to catch a glimpse of the intruders who were peeking through a crack in one of the curtains. It was Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, and they had seen the dragon.

The four thought it best to hurry back to the Gryffindor common room before any information about Hagrid and Norbert could start circulating around the school. Once situated on the couches around the fire, they started to brainstorm a way to get Norbert away from Hogwarts before Hagrid got in trouble for holding an illegal dragon.

“Can’t Hagrid just let him go?” Harry questioned the group.

“No, he can’t. Norbert’s too little. He’ll die,” Draco reasoned.

“Hagrid can’t keep him more than three weeks. By then, he will have grown too big for the hut,” Ron explained.

The four sat in silence for a few moments contemplating the situation before Hermione looked directly at Ron and piped, “Charlie!”

“Have you lost your marbles? I’m Ron!” the red head asserted.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “No- Charlie, your brother- in Romania? You said he studies dragons! We could send Norbert to him!”

“As a dragon keeper, Charlie can take care of him and then release him into the wild once he’s mature,” Draco supplied, smiling at Hermione for coming up with such an ingenious solution.

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, “I’ll write him now.”

“We can use Hedwig. She should be able to find your brother in Romania. If we send the letter first thing tomorrow morning, we should have a response in a few days. That will hopefully be plenty of time to convince Hagrid it’s what’s best,” Harry asserted, the final word adjourning the group. 

The two boys jumped up to head to the dorm room, extremely pleased with the plan. Draco and Hermione remained sitting next to each other when she blushed, “What is it?”

“Nothing, you’re just absolutely clever,” Draco mumbled contently. 

Hermione chuckled, “Thanks, Draco.” She fixed him with a mockingly stern look and said, “Now, we better get to bed. If you keep staying up and oversleeping, then I’m going to make you a schedule like I did for Ron and Harry.”

Draco laughed, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

______________________

Just as Harry had predicted, they got a response from Romania by Monday afternoon, about a week after Norbert hatched. Charlie agreed to take the young dragon in and could have a team ready for extraction in five days. He told them to have the Ridgeback on top of the astronomy tower at midnight on that date.

Elated, the four went to Hagrid’s hut to show him the letter and tell him the good news. Ron and Draco had been sneaking down each night to help Hagrid take care of Norbert. The visits, though bonding the boys over their shared love of dragons, were also meant to slowly convince Hagrid that giving up the creature was for the best. As Ron liked to put it, Draco had a charming silver tongue that could sell a wizard his own wand.

“Hagrid! He’s already grown twice his size in less than two weeks,” Harry exclaimed.

“I know- I can’t keep him forever, but…” Hagrid admitted, but was interrupted by Hermione.

“No! Hagrid, you’ve always known this wasn’t going to end well. At least this way Norbert will be with his own kind,” Hermione stated gently, her tone imploring him to see reason. 

“He’ll be with Charlie!’ Ron chimed in.

“He’s not going to be alone, Hagrid. You’ve done such a good job taking care of him so far, but he’s growing too fast. He needs to be somewhere out in the open, under the sky. Don’t worry… he’ll be alright,” Draco reassured the half giant.

Hagrid watched the spry dragon chew on one of his boots. His face dropped at the reality of the situation. Tears started to gather in his eyes when he reluctantly nodded his head.

Draco let out a sigh of relief, pleased that his powers of persuasion had not gone to waste, “You still have a couple of days, Hagrid. We just need you to get him ready so that we can sneak him up to the astronomy tower.”

With Hagrid on board, the quartet left the hut, thankful that Norbert would soon be out of Hogwarts. The only thing they had left to worry about was avoiding Nott and Zabini until they could successfully execute their plan.

“Saturday cannot come soon enough,” Hermione said, and Draco nodded in agreement.

__________________________

It was just before midnight when they snuck out of the entrance guarded by the fat lady’s portrait and met Hagrid outside in the courtyard. The half-giant was already waiting with Norbert packed in a large crate.

“He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some brandy fer the journey. Oh, An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely,” Hagrid sniffled.

Draco raised his eyebrow. Ripping noises that sounded as though the teddy bear in question was having his head torn off came from inside the crate.

“Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed as Harry, Ron, and Draco grabbed the crate while Hermione covered them with the invisibility cloak.

Hermione acted as lookout, navigating them up the marble steps in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors until they reached the doorway that would lead to the astronomy tower’s spiral staircase.

At first, the crate did not feel heavy with the dragon’s weight divided between the three boys. But, by the fourth landing, they were heavily panting. 

“How many more floors? My arms feel like they are going to fall off!” Ron complained, out of breath.

“Almost there. The top is on the tenth floor,” Harry huffed.

“Shh! I hear voices,” Hermione warned, “You keep going, and I’ll distract whoever it is.”

While the boys continued their ascent, Hermione crouched behind a statue in the fifth-floor corridor. In the dim light of a hand lantern, she could make out Professor McGonagall chastising Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.

“This is an absurd claim, Mr. Nott. I do not see Mr. Potter, nor do I see a dragon. I’m taking twenty points each from Slytherin house,” the professor said in a stern commanding tone.

“But you don’t understand!” Blaise pleaded.

“We saw the dragon!” affirmed Theo.

“Not another word. To my office now!” McGonagall ordered, sending the two Slytherins back towards the grand staircase.

Hermione smiled to herself as she snuck back into the astronomy tower. She skipped all the way to the top floor where she saw Draco, Ron, and Harry waiting near one of the turret’s open windows.

“Why are you so happy?” Draco asked smiling when she did a little jig.

“Zabini _and_ Nott both got caught by McGonagall,” she informed the boys proudly.

“I could sing!” Ron exclaimed gleefully.

“Please, don’t,” Harry advised him.

Softly chuckling, they waited for Charlie. Norbert thrashed impatiently inside the crate, wanting to be free from his confines.

“Soon, little guy. You’re almost there,” Draco whispered trying to calm the dragon.

About 10 minutes later, the extraction team flew into the open tower on broomsticks.

“Charlie!” Ron shouted running over to hug his brother.

“It’s good to see you, Ron. I’ve missed everyone!” Charlie said before turning to the other three, “And these are your friends? They must be very good ones if they’re willing to smuggle a dragon with you.”

“This is Harry, Draco, and Hermione,” Ron introduced. 

“Hello!” Harry politely greeted. Draco nodded, and Hermione awkwardly waved. 

With the brief pleasantries out of the way, Charlie and the crew rigged a harness between two of the brooms. In no time, Norbert was anchored up and suspended, ready for his relocation. The children shook hands with the handlers and thanked Charlie. Before the gang took off into the night, the older Weasley gave Ron another hug with a promise to visit him over the summer. Finally, Norbert was gone.

Hearts buoyed by their success, they felt as if a weight had been lifted. The four embraced one another, smiling at their success.

“I know we just did the right thing, but I already sort of miss Norbert?” Harry sighed. In that moment, he strongly believed that between the four of them, they could accomplish anything.

“We just saved a dragon, and Slytherins are in detention,” Hermione happily stated.

“Nothing can spoil this night!” Ron proclaimed loudly. Nobody paid attention to the footsteps behind them.

“Good evening,” McGonagall greeted them unkindly,

“You just had to jinx it… didn’t you, Weasley,” Draco said sardonically as the quartet broke apart to face the consequences. 

______________________

“Nothing, I repeat, nothing… gives a student the right to walk about the castle at night. Therefore, as punishment for your actions, 50 points will be taken,” McGonagall disciplined them. After the four had been caught, she escorted them to her office on the first floor. Blaise and Theo were already there when they walked in.

“Fifty!” Harry cried out.

“Each,” The head of house affirmed viciously.

Draco’s jaw dropped. McGonagall was seriously going to take 200 points from her own house!? That meant all the points Harry had won for quidditch, and all the points Hermione has earned for answering questions correctly meant nothing! He was so angry that he wanted to scream. Mostly, he wanted to turn around and punch Nott in his stupid face for snickering behind him.

“And to ensure it doesn’t happen again,” McGonagall continued, “All six of you will receive detention.”

The snickering suddenly stopped.

“Excuse me, professor, perhaps I heard you wrong. I thought you said the six of us,” Theo quipped, approaching the desk.

“No, you heard me correctly, Mr. Nott,” McGonagall confirmed, “You see, as… honorable as your intentions were, you too were out of bed after hours. You will join your classmates in detention.”


	6. Chapter 6 Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Year one is winding down as our golden quartet serve their detention and go down the trap door! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so so so so much for your patience! 
> 
> Extra special thanks to my sister for being my beta! 
> 
> Please keep the kudos and comments coming! They give me life!

None of the young Gryffindors slept a wink that night, so overcome with grief over the fact that they had managed to lose 200 points for their house. Harry was the most upset out of the four, because he had left his invisibility cloak up in the tower. Even worse, he couldn’t find it the next day when he tried to retrieve it. Ron was sure they were going to be hated by everyone. The major deduction put Gryffindor into last place, practically guaranteeing Slytherin would win the house cup. But the outrage over the circumstances wasn’t necessarily directed at Harry, Ron, or even Hermione. No. It was all targeted towards Draco.

Draco couldn’t figure out who it was that had come up with the idea that he was some sort of evil mastermind. Students pointed at him in the hallways, loudly whispering that he planned all along to get sorted into Gryffindor as to deceive Harry Potter and tarnish the honorable reputation of the house of lions. Some went so far to make false claims that Draco had used an unforgiveable curse! In essences, his housemates blamed the Malfoy heir for the loss. Harry, Ron, and Hermione tried to stand up for their friend, but nobody believed or listened to them.

“You guys don’t have to keep defending me,” Draco told them a few days later.

“Of course, we do, Draco! You didn’t ‘corrupt us,’ or do anything those dramatic rumors claim. We are solely responsible for own actions,” Hermione insisted.

“Everyone’s just mad and will get over this in a few days. Fred and George have lost Gryffindor loads of house points in the past for their pranks,” Ron reasoned, trying to cheer everyone up.

“Did they lose 200 in a single night?” Harry disputed with a slight edge to his voice.

“Well…no,” Ron gave up.

Just then notes were delivered to the four from Professor McGonagall informing them that they were to meet Filch that night to serve their detention.

________________________________

At exactly eleven o’clock that evening, the quartet made their way down to the entrance hall and saw Filch standing there in his usual grimy brown robes. Nott and Zabini were already waiting at the caretaker’s side. Mr. Filch’s mouth was turned in a scowl as he growled at the students to hurry up.

“A pity they let the old punishments die,” Filch muttered to the troublemakers, his lantern barely illuminating the dark path of the school grounds. “There was a time when detention found you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons. God, I miss the screaming,” he lamented with feeling.

Draco’s eyes widened in fear. To his right, he heard Ron gulp loudly as they approached the edge of the forbidden forest.

“You’ll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight,” Filch announced, depositing the children with the half-giant, “He’s got a little job to do inside the forest.” 

“Right,” Hagrid addressed the six of them. He was clutching a large crossbow with trusty Fang wagging his tail from side to side. “Now listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight.”

“Wait! This is a joke, right? We can’t go in there!” Blaise objected, his voice rising in a worried pitch.

“Students aren’t allowed. And there are… werewolves!” Theo emphasized.

“There be worse creatures than werewolves in these woods. If yeh want ter stay in Hogwarts, yeh best keep quiet and follow me,” Hagrid said fiercely.

They formed a line behind the groundskeeper into the thick, dark woods, staying as close as possible to his large frame for fear of straying off the path. A damp mist covered the air, blocking the only light to guide them from the quarter moon. In his other hand, Hagrid carried a large lantern that did little to brighten the barely visible trail. The ground was rough, underbrush cracking and echoing with each step the party took.

Draco felt like they had walked forever before Hagrid motioned for them to gather around a silver puddle in a clearing. He dipped his fingers in, examining the unknown liquid.

“Hagrid, what is that?” Harry asked with a shaky voice.

“What we’re here for. See that?” Hagrid questioned the children, holding up his fingers. They nodded in unison, “That’s unicorn blood, that is. I found one dead a few weeks ago. Now, this one’s been hurt… bad… by somethin’. So, it’s our job ter go and find the poor beast.”

Ron whimpered, sounding like he was going to cry. Hermione held her left hand up to her mouth, covering it like she was going to be sick. Draco reached out and firmly held her free wrist, giving it a comforting squeeze. Harry, not really paying attention to his friends’ distress, quickly turned around as if he had heard something over his left shoulder.

“Right, we are going ter split into two groups. Harry, Ron, and Draco are going ter come with me. Blaise, Theo, and Hermione will go with Fang.”

“Great, we get the mudblood,” Blaise muttered behind Draco, ignoring the rest of Hagrid’s instructions.

“Wonder if anyone will notice her missing?” Theo taunted, smirking as he looked at Hermione. 

Draco felt her stiffen under his hand. Her chest visibly heaved, slowly rising and falling, as if to quell the panic evident on her face. All were indications she had heard Theo’s threat.

“Actually, Hagrid, I’ll go with Nott and Zabini,” Draco spoke up, interrupting him. After a few seconds of contemplating the request, Hagrid nodded.

“Draco, are you…?” Hermione whispered, but her voice trailed off when she felt him gently press his thumb to her pulse point.

“I’m not letting you go off with them after what they said. I won’t let anything happen to you, Hermione. I swear,” He vowed softly so that only she could hear.

Draco looked into her surprised chocolate eyes. While he knew in his heart that this clever and brilliant witch could overcome any challenge thrown her way, he still felt an overwhelming need to try and protect her. Hermione was important to him. In that moment, he knew he would rather suffer through anything than risk her being hurt.

“Hermione,” Harry called, causing the two to break apart as she went to join Ron, Harry, and Hagrid. Theo, now holding the lantern, followed Fang in the opposite direction. Blaise and Draco trailed closely behind.

“I can’t believe that oaf! Having us trample about in the forbidden forest,” Theo growled, “This is servant’s work!”

“Too bad you can’t report this to your father, Malfoy,” Blaise grunted, almost tripping over a fallen branch.

“Nah, if he did that… then he would have to tell daddy about his mudblood girlfriend,” Theo joked cruelly. 

Draco ran up behind Nott and pushed him to the ground. Theo dropped the lantern, his shoulder hitting the root of a tree.

“What’s your problem, Malfoy!” Blaise yelled, shoving the blonde wizard.

“Stop calling her that!” Draco shouted at the Slytherins.

Theo jumped off the ground and tackled Draco. He was trying to pin Draco down, but was struggling to see in the dark, “You gave me up for a mudblood, Draco! A filthy… dirty… witch!”

Draco hit Theo in the side of his throat, stunning the boy long enough for him to roll out from under Theo and lunge. He managed to punch the tall, thin wizard in the face, before Blaise grabbed Draco by his robes and threw him off.

“Blood hell, Malfoy!” Theo yelled, wiping a bit of blood from his busted lip as Blaise helped him off the ground.

“Don’t you _ever,_ call her a dirty witch, ever again! If you ever _think_ about using the word mudblood or any other slur when talking about Hermione… I swear I will do so much worse to you, Nott!” Draco threatened.

“Do you even hear yourself? Draco, she is unnatural! You would seriously choose her, choose blood traitors over us?” Theo pointed between him and Blaise, the betrayal he felt clear from his tone. “You were like my brother!”

“Theo, wake up! I know you are smarter than just blindly accepting what our fathers taught us. Honestly, what makes Hermione any different? Her blood is just as red, just as magical, as yours!” Draco shouted.

“Don’t say that!” Theo spat, “I can’t even look at you. I don’t know who you are anymore!”

“The feeling is mutual,” Draco stated, his eyes hard and unforgiving.

“Guys, what’s that?” Blaise quivered. He had picked up the lantern and was holding it near his face and pointing at a shadow in the clearing. Despite the mist, Draco could see a familiar mop of disheveled dark hair backing away from something.

“Harry?” Draco called out, running after his friend who had just fallen down.

He arrived to find Harry clutching at his scar, crying out in pain. A few yards from them, the missing Unicorn was sprawled on the ground with a cloaked individual sucking the blood from its broken neck. 

Behind the Gryffindors, Blaise and Theo were screeching at the top of their lungs, Fang’s aggressive barks added to the cacophony as they retreated from the terrifying sight. The cloaked creature looked up and growled at the intruders, causing the Neapolitan mastiff to run away.

Draco pulled out his wand, “Stay back!”

The warning did nothing to deter the monster as it slowly approached. Draco hesitated for a moment before pointing his wand up in the air, bellowing, “Periculum!”

Red sparks flew from its tip, high above the forest tree line like a flare. The glare from the spell illuminated the clearing, bathing the cloaked figure in an amber light, adding to the macabre feeling of the scene. Draco silently prayed that Hagrid would see the warning as he took a couple of steps back to put some distance between himself and the advancing monster. A gnarled root caused him to lose his footing, sending him to the ground next to Harry.

The terrified boys watched the creature glide closer, bracing for their doom. Suddenly, the sound of heavy hooves filled the air, shattering their stupor. It was a Centaur. Before they could say anything, the palomino jumped over them and attached the monster until it retreated deeper into the forest, lost in the fog. 

Harry and Draco helped each other up, walking over to thank the half man, half horse being for saving their lives. The centaur looked perturb at the sight of the young boys in the woods so late at night, but his face softened in recognition when he looked at Harry.

“Harry Potter, you must leave at once. You are known to many here in the forest. It is not safe at this time. Especially for you,” the centaur warned.

“But what was that thing you saved us from?” Harry asked, quickly regaining his composure.

“A monstrous creature,” he explained, “It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking its blood will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. For you have slain something so pure, that from the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life.”

Draco shuddered, “Who would choose such a life?”

The centaur raised an eyebrow at the question, “Can you think of no one?”

“Voldemort!” Harry concluded, the shock evident in his voice.

“You mean to say… that thing that was drinking the unicorn’s blood was You-Know-Who?” Draco clarified in disbelief, his eyes wide with fear. He wasn’t brave enough to say the actual name like Harry.

“Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?” the centaur continued to lightly interrogate the boys.

Harry nodded, his face conveying that he had just figured out Snape’s motivation, “The Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Harry! Draco!” Hermione yelled from surprisingly nearby. She ran over and hugged Draco, tightly. “We saw the flare! Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, love. Promise,” Draco replied, returning her embrace.

Ron, Blaise, and Theo were standing behind Hagrid when the half giant lowered his cross-bow, “Hello there, Firenze. See you’ve met young Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy.”

Firenze lowered his head in acknowledgment before turning back to address Harry, “This is where I leave you. Good luck. You are safe.”

With the unicorn found, regrettably dead, Hagrid ended the detention and escorted the children out of the forest. They made their way silently back to the dorm. Once they were behind the portrait, the four needed to regroup and decompress from the unexpected turn of the night’s events. Harry was pacing agitatedly back and forth in front of the fireplace. Draco, Ron, and Hermione sat on the couch and waited for Harry to speak.

“It all makes sense now! We had it all wrong… and Voldemort is waiting in the forest…” Harry mused aloud.

“Will you stop saying his name!” Ron whispered in a terrified voice. The others ignored him.

“You mean, You-Know-Who is out there right now?” Hermione confirmed.

“But he’s weak. If what Firenze thinks is correct, he’s living off the unicorns until Snape can get the stone and create the Elixir of Life!” Harry theorized.

“He’ll come back,” Draco added softly. 

“But if he comes back, you don’t think he’ll try to… kill you, do you?” Ron whimpered. 

“I think if he had the chance, he might have tried to kill me tonight. If it wasn’t for Draco and Firenze, I’d probably be dead,” Harry stated. He looked over at Draco with gratitude in his eyes. 

Ron gulped, “And to think I’ve been worrying about my Potions final.”

Draco quietly chuckled at Ron’s attempt to defuse the tension when Hermione piped up, “Hang on a second. We’re forgetting one thing. Who’s the one wizard Voldemort has always feared?”

Hermione’s chest puffed out a little bit at her display of courage in speaking the forbidden name. When the boys didn’t answer her prompt, she continued, “Dumbledore! As long as Dumbledore is around, Harry, you’re safe. You can’t be touched.”

Exhaustion suddenly overcame the young Gryffindors. They decided to retire to their respective dormitories and revisit the topic after exams. Harry was just about to crawl into bed when he pulled his blanket back and gasped.

“What is it, Harry?” Ron yawned. 

Folded neatly under his blanket was the invisibility cloak with a small note that read, _Just in case._

_______________________________

“I’d heard Hogwarts’ final exams were frightful, but I found that rather enjoyable,” Hermione exclaimed gleefully. It had been a couple of weeks since they served their detention, and like most of the school, they had been focused on their end-of-year exams. The four were taking a much-deserved jaunt across the school grounds, having just finished their Charms final, the last one for their year.

“Speak for yourself!” Ron grumbled.

“Are you alright there, Harry?” Draco asked.

The boy-who-lived had hissed in pain, stopping in mid-stride to bring his hand to his forehead, “My scar. It keeps burning.”

“Is this what happened that night in the Forbidden Forest?” Draco pressed, concerned for his friend.

“Similar, but not like this,” Harry explained vaguely.

“Maybe you should see the nurse?” Ron suggested.

Harry shook his head, “I don’t think she can help me. I… I think it’s a warning. It means dangers coming.”

The friends were standing around in a circle near the edge of the courtyard when they heard a flute playing off in the distance. Harry abruptly turned at the sound and started walking down the dirt path towards Hagrid’s hut.

“Harry, where are you going?” Hermione called after him, Ron and Draco following right behind her.

“Why didn’t I see it before?” Harry said to himself.

“See what? What’s happening?” Ron asked. He, Draco, and Hermione were struggling to keep up with Harry’s brisk pace.

“Don’t you find it odd that the one thing Hagrid wants most in the world is a dragon and a stranger turns up who just happens to have one? How many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets?” He asked exasperated before sprinting the rest of the way to the hut.

“Oh, hello you lot,” the half-giant greeted.

“Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg?” Harry questioned impatiently.

“I don’ know. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up the whole time,” Hagrid said, caught off guard by Harry’s tone.

“This stranger though. You and he must have talked?” Harry cajoled for more information.

“Well, he wanted ter know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him… I said, ‘After Fluffy, a dragon ain’t gonna be no problem’,” Hagrid recounted.

“Was he interested in Fluffy?”

“Well, of cours’ he was interested in Fluffy. How often d’yeh come across a three-headed dog?” Hagrid replied irritably. As quick as his ire had come, the half-giant softened his disposition and resumed his story, “But I told him, I said, ‘The trick with any beast is ter know how ter calm him.’ Take Fluffy, for example. Yeh play him a bit of music and he falls straight ter sleep.”

At this last piece of information fell into place, Harry’s theory solidified. The quartet shared horrifieds at hearing Hagrid had told a complete stranger, most likely Voldemort, how to get past Fluffy.

“I shouldn’ta told you that,” Hagrid said, gauging the expressions on the students’ faces. Without saying good bye, Harry bolted back up the rocky path, with Draco, Ron, and Hermione on his heels. They ignored Hagrid’s cries as they sprinted all the way to the Transfiguration classroom. Harry didn’t even bother knocking. He just barged inside, surprising McGonagall.

“We have to see Professor Dumbledore, immediately!” Harry panted, the four forming a line in front of McGonagall’s desk.

“I’m afraid Professor Dumbledore isn’t here. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately after,” McGonagall explained sternly.

“He’s gone? Now!? But this in important! This is about the Philosopher’s Stone!” Harry pleaded. 

McGonagall raised her eyes in alarm, “How do you know-”

“Someone’s going to try and steal it!” Harry insisted, the other three students nodding in agreement.

“I don’t know how you four found out about the stone, but I assure you it is perfectly well protected,” their head of house stated firmly, “Now, would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly.”

Momentarily defeated, the quartet left the classroom and regrouped in the hallway.

“That was no stranger Hagrid met. It was Snape. Which means he knows how to get past Fluffy,” Harry said.

“And with Dumbledore gone…” Hermione started to say but was cut off.

“Good Afternoon,” Snape announced from somewhere behind Draco, startling the children, who immediately turned to face him, “Now, what would four young Gryffindors, such as yourselves, be doing inside on a day like this?”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, neither having a response for the menacing professor.

“We were talking about the exams,” Draco lied, keeping eye contact with Snape.

“Is that so?” Snape replied, not really buying Draco’s excuse.

“Quite right. Did you need something Professor?” Draco asked him, refusing to allow the man to intimidate him.

If Snape was surprised, he didn’t show it. He simply looked down at Draco advised, “You might want to be careful. People will think you’re… up to something.”

With the ominous warning in the air, Snape walked away. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see Harry was watching Snape with a piercing glare.

“Now what do we do?” Hermione whispered desperately.

“We go down the trap door. Tonight,” Harry proclaimed.

______________________

Draco, Ron, and Harry waited until they knew that the rest of their dorm mates were asleep. Their cue to leave was Dean loudly snoring. Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak and the boys met Hermione in the common room. They were just about to sneak out when they heard the croak of a toad.

“Trevor,” Draco stated, annoyed by the amphibian sitting on the arm of a red, velvet chair.

“Shh! Go! You shouldn’t be here!” Ron whispered aggressively.

“Neither should you,” came a voice from the same chair. Neville revealed himself to the quartet, blocking their exit, “You’re sneaking out again, aren’t you?”

“Neville, listen. We were-” Harry tried to explain but was interrupted.

“No! I won’t let you! You’ll get Gryffindor into trouble again! I’ll… I’ll fight you!” Neville stuttered, holding up his fists.

“Alright,” Draco agreed, stepping forward to accept Neville’s challenge before, Hermione held up her arm. Draco observed that clever glint in her eye that appeared when she had figured out a tricky problem or come up with an ingenious plan.

She turned to address Longbottom, “Neville, I’m really, _really,_ sorry about this.” She drew her wand, “Petrificus Totalus.”

Before any of the boys could blink, a whisp of white-light shot from the end of Hermione’s 10 ¾ inch Vine wood and dragon heartstring wand. The spell snapped Neville’s arms to his side, locking his legs, and freezing him in place. The full body binding curse paralyzed the poor boy, causing him to sway back and forth falling straight backwards onto the rug. Not breaking eye contact with her target, Hermione twirled her wand before returning it to her pocket.

“You’re a little scary sometimes, you know that?” Ron whispered frightened by Hermione’s spell work. 

“You’re absolutely brilliant, Hermione Granger,” Draco declared in wonderment, his open admiration, causing the witch to blush.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, marching past Neville.

The cloak was just large enough to fit all four of them as they made their way to the third-floor corridor. Like last time, Hermione unlocked the door allowing them to step inside. A harp was magically playing in the corner, evidence that Snape had already been there and lulled Fluffy to sleep with the soothing tune. Harry handed the cloak to Draco to hang on to before they cautiously approached the three-headed dog. The boys picked up a corner of the paw over the trap door, and carefully pushed it out of the way. Hermione pulled the door open so the four could look inside.

“Can you see anything?” Ron asked.

With negative replies all around, Harry decided to prove once again why he had been sorted into the house of the brave, “I’m going to drop down. If anything, bad happens, get yourselves out.”

The other three nodded as Harry lowered himself through the hole and disappeared into the black abyss. Draco could barely hear when Harry hit the bottom, since the impact sounded like Harry had landed on something soft, similar to plopping on a bouncy mattress.

“It’s alright!” Harry called up to the other three a few seconds later, “It’s a soft landing!”

Ron jumped next dropping down near Harry. Hermione was hesitant, her brain overthinking the simple task.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked her, noticing the slight hitch in her breathing. He could tell she was trying to mentally stop the panic attack before it began.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, not taking her eyes off the black hole. 

Draco held out his hand to her, “Together?”

Hermione looked over at him, her breath slightly labored from staring into the darkness. Nodding, she reached out, coming back to herself as she made contact.

“Close your eyes. When I count to three… jump,” Draco ordered, squeezing her hand.

Hermione nodded, whispering, “I trust you.”

The cold air rushed past their ears as they fell through the hole. The impact of the fall caused them to break apart, before landing on the soft black, vine like plant. Draco looked around to see they had fallen into a pit in an underground chamber.

“Lucky this plant thing was here, really,” Ron exclaimed.

“Lucky?!” Hermione screeched, the greenery came to life and tried to latch on to her ankle. She scurried up the side, managing to get free from the plant before it could truly grab her. She pulled Draco along with her, saving him from twisty vines. They were leaning against a stone wall watching Harry and Ron struggling in plant’s grip.

“Stop moving, both of you! That’s Devil’s snare,” Hermione called out, “You need to relax or it will kill you faster.”

“Kill us faster? Oh, now I’m really relaxed,” Ron shouted sarcastically.

“Shut up, Ronald! I’m trying to remember how to kill it!” Hermione yelled at him.

“Professor Sprout said something in Herbology one day…” Draco said trying to recall the rhyme, “Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare…”

“It’s deadly fun but will sulk in the sun! That’s it, Draco! Devil’s Snare hates sunlight!” Hermione confirmed.

Draco drew his wand, “I know just the spell, Lumus Solem.”

A huge burst of yellow-white sunlight shot from Draco’s wand. The spell caused the plant to immediately recede freeing the boys.

“Are you two, okay?” Draco asked, helping Harry out of the pit while Hermione helped Ron.

“Woo, luckily we didn’t panic,” Ron denied, trying to play off his momentary freak out.

Hermione rolled her eyes when Harry corrected, “You’re lucky Hermione paid attention in Herbology and Draco paid attention in Charms.”

“Well, now what?” Ron asked.

“This way,” Harry said pointing down a narrow passage way. The only direction to go was forward.

The quartet found themselves inside a large, underground chamber. Looking up into the high arching ceiling, they could see small, jewel-like birds fluttering and tumbling around in the air. The rustling and clinking of their feathers echoed throughout the room.

“Curious, I’ve never seen birds like these,” Hermione mused. 

“They’re not birds. They’re keys,” Harry pointed out. They had walked to the center of the room to find two broom sticks suspended in midair.

“I bet you one of them fits that door,” Draco said nodding his head towards the tall, cathedral door.

Ron pulled out his wand, determinedly strutting to the door. Pointing at the lock he cried out, “Alohomora!”

He tugged on the handle a few times, but the door did not budge. Draco snorted at Ron’s failed spell. The red head to turned around to defend himself, “Well, it was worth a try!”

“A bit obvious, isn’t it? Two of you need to fly up to catch the key,” Hermione guessed.

Ron hummed, assessing the lock on the door, “You’re looking for a big, old-fashioned one. Probably silver like the handle, here.”

“Not up for a little broom ride then, Weasley?” Draco teased.

“Hey, I tried unlocking the door, mate. It’s your turn,” Ron jested back. Harry, Draco, and Ron chuckled at the joke.

Hermione grunted, “Boys, focus! There must be a thousand keys up there!”

Heeding Hermione’s order, Draco gripped and mounted one of the brooms while Harry snapped up the other. The two flew up and into the mess of keys, looking for the one that Ron described. For anyone less trained, the keys would have been impossible to catch as they darted and dashed through the air, but not Harry and Draco. Ron made a comment to Hermione that the two were exceptional flyers. If it wasn’t for the fact that Harry was the Gryffindor seeker, then the boys would have been ideal chasers.

“Harry! There! The fat one with the broken wing,” Draco shouted pointing at the key in question.

“Circle it and then whoever gets closer, grab it!” Harry strategized. Together, they dove after the key, Harry streaking to the left while Draco rounded to the right. The effect created a tornado, trapping the key inside the funnel. Harry reached out first, but lost his balance and tumbled into a barrel roll, missing the target. The force of the spiral pushed the key towards Draco, who barely managed to grasp one of its wings.

“Hermione!” Draco called out, diving down to throw her the key. By the time Harry and Draco had landed back on the ground, Hermione had the door open.


	7. Chapter 7 Year 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A game of chess, the end-of-year feast, and last day of Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! It's here! We made it to the end of year one! 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with this story! More is written and being edited as this is posting, so hopefully you will not have to wait as long for updates! 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for your comments and kudos. They seriously mean the world to me! Thank you so much to my sister for being my beta and helping me improve my writing. 
> 
> Also, let me know what you think of the mood board. I actually did this one myself! :)

The next chamber was so dark that the quartet could barely see where they were going. As they stepped further in, the room suddenly illuminated to reveal they were standing in the middle of a giant chessboard. The pieces were carved of pristine white and black marble, set up before the start of a game. Hermione shivered when she saw that none of the pieces had faces.

“What do you think we do?” Harry asked.

“I think it’s a bit obvious, Harry,” Draco stated.

“It is?” Hermione retorted.

“We have to play our way across the board,” Ron pointed out, turning to address the rest, “Looks like we are going to have to take the place of some of the black pieces.”

“That’s crazy, Ron!” Draco cried out, “Us? As pieces? And I assume you’re going to call the moves?”

“I think that’s a bit obvious, Draco,” Harry repeated back to the blonde wizard.

“Ron’s, arguably, the best chess player at Hogwarts. If anyone can win, it’s him,” Hermione reasoned.

Oblivious to their interplay, Ron surveyed the board with the eyes of an experienced tactician, weighing the relative merits of substituting themselves for the various pieces. Having come to a decision, the red head commanded, “Right, Draco you are going to be the queen’s side castle. Harry, take the place of the king’s bishop. Hermione, you’ll be the queen. As for me… I’ll be a knight.”

The chessmen appeared to have been listening to Ron’s instruction, because the pieces he indicated immediately forfeited their places on the board. The quartet calmly walked to the spaces vacated by the life-sized pieces.

“What happens now?” Hermione asked. She felt uneasy and was not entirely familiar with the game.

“Well, white moves first. And then… we play,” Ron forewarned.

Every one’s attention snapped to the center of the board at the sound of scraping marble. A white pawn advanced two spaces.

Ron was thinking about his first move when Draco asked, “Ron… you don’t suppose this is going to be like wizard’s chess, do you?”

“You there! D-5!” Ron shouted, pointing at one of the pawns to test Draco’s hypothesis.

The four watched in anticipation as their side took up a position diagonal from the white piece. Once it was within striking distance, the white pawn drew his swords and savaged the black pawn.

Hermione screamed. Harry and Draco stared at the shattered debris in shock. Ron gulped before turning to face Draco, “Yes, mate. This is going to be _exactly_ like wizard’s chess.”

“Merlin, Weasley. Don’t get me killed,” Draco muttered to himself.

Move by Move, Ron directed the black side, careful to keep his friends out of harm’s way. The white team showed no mercy in the taking of the black team’s pieces. Draco mostly kept his focus on Hermione. He was agitated every time Weasley moved her. Why did he have to make her the most powerful and useful piece in the game? She suffered a few cuts from shattering marble, but other than that, she remained safe. He jumped when the white queen smashed the other black castle before knocking its remains off the board. 

“Nearly there… it had to happen,” Ron muttered to himself as the white queen finished her turn.

“Wait a minute!” Harry exclaimed suddenly.

“Then you understand, Harry. It’s the only way,” Ron implored. “Once I make my move, the queen will take me. Then you’re free to check the king.”

“No, Ron!” Harry yelled.

“What is it?” Hermione questioned from her corner of the board.

“He’s going to sacrifice himself!” Harry explained.

“You can’t do that!” Draco shouted.

“There must be another way!” Hermione insisted.

Ron looked them each in the eye, “Do you want to stop Snape from getting that stone, or not?” Then, directly addressing his raven-haired companion, Ron revealed, “It’s you that has to go on, Harry. Not me. Not Hermione. Not Draco. You.”

Regardless of, whether the friends liked the decision or not, they watched with bated breath as Ron held on to the reins and told the horse to advance to H-3. The red head softly whispered check. As soon as the move was complete, the white queen pounced onto Ron’s position. Her stone sword stabbed the side, shattering the piece. As Ron fell, a broken chunk of marble hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious. 

Hermione screamed at the sight of Ron’s unmoving figure sprawled on the chessboard. She almost walked off her square to go help him when Draco howled, “Don’t move, Hermione!”

“We’re still playing,” Harry shouted angrily. Hermione stayed where she was as Harry moved three spaces diagonally towards the white king. “Checkmate!”

The king took off his crown and threw it at Harry’s feet. They had won the game.

Immediately, the three friends moved to Ron’s side, with Hermione checking his pulse. Relieved to hear a heartbeat, Harry steeled himself for what lay ahead. “Ron’s right. I have to keep going.”

Draco nodded, “Hermione, should go with you. I’ll take Ron back through to the key room and get him help.”

“Draco, are you sure?” Hermione asked, concern laced her voice.

He softly smiled, attempting to reassure her, “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. You take care of Harry, but more importantly, please… take care of yourself.”

The firelight reflected off the chessboard, casting a warm glow over Draco’s entire face. Hermione could see the hidden distress in her friend’s gorgeous grey eyes but found herself inexplicably drawn to his mouth, or rather, to his lips. Lips that could speak such witty retorts or sweet solaces. Without knowing quite what had come over her, she leaned in and gently pecked him on the mouth. Draco took a moment to process his shock, raising his hand to lightly touch where she had kissed him, as he watched her leave. He blushed at the revelation that Hermione Granger... his best friend… had just kissed him! Though it was quick, her lips were soft and seemed to carry an electric spark that traveled through his body. Was this what it felt like to be struck by lightning? He was overcome with joy; his heart was so full of it, he thought he might explode, or maybe fly without a broom! Before he could think further on the gesture, he heard Ron make a combination of a moaning and snoring sound.

“Alright, Weasley. Time to wake up,” Draco said to himself as he pointed his wand at the red head, “Rennervate.”

Ron’s eyes shot open. He groaned again, clutching his head and mumbling, “What happened?”

“Did you hit your head that hard? You got knocked off a knight playing a game of chess. We have to get to the owlery right now and send for Dumbledore. Up you go, Weasley,” Draco ordered, helping Ron to his feet.

“My head hurts,” Ron complained. He was still really weak and needed Draco to support him. They hobbled all the way to where they had left the brooms in the underground chamber with the charmed keys.

“Just get me to the other broom, mate,” Ron moaned, dizzily.

“Don’t be stupid, Weasley. You can’t even stand on your own. Besides, we have to leave one for Harry and Hermione,” Draco explained calmly, struggling a bit to get Ron to mount the handle. They flew up into the air, back the way they had come, straight through the trapped door. Draco had made it all the way to the entrance hall when he saw Dumbledore standing in the middle of the room.

“He’s gone after the stone, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, professor. Please hurry! Hermione is with him, but…” Draco’s rambling trailed off as Dumbledore left.

“Malfoy, I think I’m going to be sick…” Ron muttered, barely hanging on to the suspended broom.

“Oh no you don’t! Not until we get to the hospital wing,” Draco stipulated, “We’re almost there… only one more flight of stairs to go.”

No one was inside the ward when they entered. It was eerily quiet as the light from the breaking dawn filled up the elongated room through the tall stained-glass windows along the east wall. Draco had just deposited Ron on the bed closest to the door when a shrill, elderly voice sounded behind him.

“What is the meaning of this!?”

Draco gasped, “He’s been hurt, ma’am. I used a reviving charm on him, but… I think he has a concussion.”

The nurse, Madam Pomfrey, pulled out her wand and ran a diagnostic spell over Ron’s body. She clucked her tongue as she rummaged in a medicine cabinet in the back of the wing. She returned with a clear vial, “I don’t suppose you are going to tell me how you two got your wounds?”

“Trust me, ma’am. You wouldn’t believe me if I did,” Draco replied as Madam Pomfrey administered the potion.

“There, that should help him recover. He will be right as rain in a day. You, young man, are going to lay here next to him while I heal your cuts and bruises,” she ordered, pointing at the bed to the left of Ron’s.

The nurse just had started her treatment when Hermione burst into the hospital wing followed closely by Professors McGonagall and Snape.

“Professor, please! You have to get to Harry and the Stone!”

“Not another word, Miss Granger. Professor Dumbledore is handling it,” came McGonagall’s terse reply as she directed her charge toward one of the beds. “I’m afraid you have another patient, Poppy.”

“We will expect explanations from you three once you have recovered from your injuries,” Snape interjected, looking between the three Gryffindors. The professors left without another word.

Madam Pomfrey had just finished casting a few basic healing spells on Draco and Hermione when she instructed, “Now, I’m setting monitoring charms on the beds, so I’ll know if you get up. You are to rest here for at least a few hours. If you show no more symptoms then you will be permitted to leave the ward.”

Once she left the wing, Draco rolled over to face Hermione, “Are you alright, love? What happened?”

Hermione smiled, looking at Draco, “I’m okay. But if I tell you, then you have to promise not to be too angry at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Draco said, “Alright. I promise.”

“So, we know that pretty much all the professors were involved in setting traps to prevent someone from getting to the stone. Professor Sprout grew the Devil’s Snare. Professor Flitwick charmed the keys…”

“And Professor McGonagall transfigured the chess pieces. But what about Quirrell and Snape?”

“The mountain troll from Halloween was passed out in the next chamber. After Harry and I crept by the creature, we found ourselves trapped in a very small room. The doorway behind us was blocked by purple flames and the door to the next room was engulfed in blue flames. The only way for us to get through was by drinking the correct potion, and the only way we would know which of the seven vials to choose was by solving a puzzle. According to the riddle, two of the bottles were wine; one bottle would let us pass through the blue flames and another would let us go back through the purple flames,” she explained.

“And what about the other three?” Draco asked tentatively.

“They were supposedly poison,” she replied quietly.

Draco gasped, “Poison?”

“You said you weren’t going to get mad,” Hermione reminded him.

“I promised I wouldn’t get too angry,” Draco corrected her, “Hermione… what if you had guessed wrong?”

“I didn’t guess. I solved it…using logic. Besides, aren’t you the one that’s always telling me how clever I am?” she raised an eyebrow at him, daring Draco to argue with her. When he didn’t, she continued, “There wasn’t enough in the vial for both of us to cross the blue flames, so Harry went on, and I returned through the purple flames. I ran into Dumbledore just outside the third-floor corridor, and he suggested I wake up Professor McGonagall. She summoned Professor Snape, and he met us on the way to the hospital wing.”

“We were wrong about, Snape,” Draco stated, confused but relieved that his former mentor was not working for Voldemort.

“We were, but then, that leaves the mystery of who was actually after the stone,” Hermione admitted with a yawn.

“I’m sure we’ll find out in a few hours. Let’s get some rest.”

It felt like Draco had just closed his eyes when he was awoken by the sound of Harry being placed in a bed next to Hermione, completely passed out. Madam Pomfrey cleared Draco and Hermione to leave the wing, but Ron had to wait until tomorrow morning to make sure he was completely healed from his concussion. After being released, the two cleaned up and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. When they entered the hall, everyone stopped eating, and all eyes watched as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Hermione whispered.

“Do you think they know?” Draco replied. 

“Oh, everyone knows,” Fred answered mischievously.

“And we want to hear all about it!” George insisted, leaning in closer to hear the epic tale.

_____________________________

Harry woke up three days later, just in time for the end of year feast. Prior to the meal, Ron, Hermione, and Draco visited him in the hospital wing to tell him what happened and to hear how he faced Quirrell. They learned that Voldemort had been living off the man like a parasite. That it was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who had let the troll in the dungeon, tried to kill Harry at the quidditch match, and sought the stone in order to bring his master back. Despite how grim the information was, it was nice to hear the truth instead of the crazy rumors circulating around the school.

That night, the Great Hall was decorated in silver and green as an homage to Slytherin for winning the house cup last year. This year would be their seventh consecutive win. Banners hung from the ceiling displaying the house crest, its snake mascot represented prominently in the design. Everyone was seated, chatting animatedly when McGonagall clinked her glass to call the room to order.

“Another year gone,” Dumbledore’s regal tone echoed through the Hall, commanding the attention of the students, “And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding. And the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor with 262 points.”

Polite applause sounded throughout the room. Harry and Ron ducked their heads in shame, while Draco and Hermione frowned as Dumbledore continued, “Third place, Hufflepuff with 352 points. In second place, Ravenclaw with 426 points. And finally, with 472 points, Slytherin house.”

Everyone clapped for each house after their totals were announced, but Slytherin was excessive in their celebration as they loudly cheered and banged their goblets on the table. Draco caught Theo’s eye, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the Slytherin’s victory. In an unsurprising demonstration of sportsmanship, or lack thereof, the other wizard made a great production of sniggering at his former friend, reveling in his own win and mocking Gryffindor’s epic loss. There was a part of Draco that wanted to be angry, but after everything they’d been through, it all seemed so petty. When the merriment subsided, Dumbledore continued his announcement.

“Yes, yes… well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award.”

The whole room stilled as they listened to the unexpected additions. 

“First, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool intellect when others were in grave peril. I award Gryffindor house 50 points.”

The majority of the room burst into applause, the compliment making Hermione blush a deep red. Draco clapped and cheered the loudest for her. She jokingly slapped his arm, telling him to stop making such a scene, even though deep down she was appreciative.

“Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years… 50 points!”

Ron plastered a huge smile on his face, his siblings hollering their encouragement at their brother’s achievement.

“Third, to Mr. Draco Malfoy, for unwavering fidelity in times of intolerable trials…50 points.” 

Hermione, Ron, and Harry enthusiastically applauded for their friend. The rest of the hall rang with genuine joy, as the members of the house of lions finally accepted the pureblooded wizard into their home.

“And fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter. For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house 60 points.”

Smiles spread across Gryffindor table as everyone whispered excitedly at the news. In less than five minutes, they had jumped from last place to being tied with Slytherin.

“Finally, it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award 10 points to Mr. Neville Longbottom,” Dumbledore concluded.

The hall echoed with resounding cheers and more applause. Neville’s jaw dropped, stunned by the school- wide recognition from the headmaster. He didn’t wake from his stupor until Draco patted him on the back, congratulating him.

“Assuming my calculations are correct…I believe a change in décor is in order,” Dumbledore declared, raising his arms. The colors shifted from the sliver and green to gold and red. The banners that once shown the pit viper magically transformed to display a proud, male lion.

“Gryffindor wins the house cup!”

It was a great night to be a Gryffindor! People jumped from their seats and embraced their classmates, the delight over the surprise victory and triumph of having defeated the standing champion was contagious. Many people came over to shake hands and congratulate the golden quartet on their achievements. Blaise and Theo sneered at Draco, claiming that the house cup had been stolen. The rest of Slytherin house agreed and protested the verdict by not participating in the celebrations, as the majority felt that they were the rightful winners. Draco was not paying attention to the complaints, opting to enjoy his last night of the school year. He didn’t notice the desiderium that clouded Theo’s eyes as the young Slytherin slowly accepted he had lost his childhood best friend.

______________________

The Hogwarts Express had just pulled out of Hogsmeade Station on course to Kings Cross. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione were sitting in a compartment, each holding a piece of parchment.

“Well, I passed,” Ron sighed in relief, Harry nodded at his sentiment. It was practically a miracle that the boy-who-lived was able to concentrate on his exams while simultaneously trying to stop a dark wizard’s resurrection. Draco and Hermione were being more secretive about their grades, and were anxious to see who actually won top spot of their year.

“On the count of three, we trade,” Draco said to Hermione. The two were holding their end of year scores close to their chests.

“Deal. One…” Hermione started the count down.

“Two…” Draco said after her.

“Oy! Will you two just get on with it already!” Ron cried out impatiently.

“Three!” Hermione and Draco declared at the same time, trading the report cards.

“Oh my, word!” she exclaimed looking over Draco’s card a second time, “I can’t believe it!”

“What?” Harry asked, equally as impatient as Ron.

Draco smiled, “We tied.”

“You two tied for top student in our year? Is that even possible?” Ron asked in disbelief.

Hermione nodded, “Our overall scores are exactly the same, just in different subjects. Draco scored Outstanding in Flying and Potions, where I scored Exceeds Expectations…”

“But I scored Exceeds Expectations in History of Magic and Transfiguration whereas Hermione got an Outstanding in each,” Draco summed up.

“So, the scores evened out?” Harry concluded.

“But… what does that mean for our bet?” Ron asked Harry.

“Bet? Are you joking?” Hermione complained.

“Right now, I wish we were,” Harry said seeing the look of ire on Hermione’s face.

Draco laughed, “You guys can just call this a draw.”

The quartet laughed wholeheartedly before the reality set in that they wouldn’t see each other until September. It was Hermione who voiced that depressing thought, “It feels weird to be going home, doesn’t it?”

Harry smiled affectionately at his friends, “I’m not going home. Not really.”

_End of Year One_


	8. Chapter 8 Year 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the beginning of the Chamber of Secrets!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING PATIENT. 
> 
> My sister is overworked so I had to search for a new beta. Grammarly has become my new best friend. LOL But we are back on track and updates will be more frequent. Please continue to comment, kudo, and subscribe. 
> 
> Now, without further ado, let's plow through Year 2!

“It is the only way, Cissa,” Draco heard his father hiss to his mother. He was standing on top of the staircase, careful not to lean too far around the corner as he listened to the hushed conversation. Since the beginning of the summer, his parents acting overly hypervigilant every time he walked into a room like they were hiding something from Draco he was not supposed to know.

“You will not! I repeat, not… give that… object to Draco! We have no idea what dark magic the dark lord has imbedded into it!” Narcissa Malfoy hissed back to her husband.

“All I am aware of is that this will reopen…” Lucius tried to reason with his wife, but she cut him off before Draco could learn what they were talking about.

“I don’t care what it does! The fact of the matter is you will not give it to Draco to smuggle into the school. You will not do anything to endanger our son, or so help me, Lucius…” Narcissa started to hyperventilate. Had Draco peaked from his hiding spot, he would have seen his father trying to comfort his mother. He could hear his father shushing her, calming her down.

“Alright, Cissa. I won’t give it to Draco. I’ll find some other way to get it into the castle. Regardless, I must dispose of the object,” Lucius reassured.

Draco’s eyes widened upon hearing the disturbing statement. Even though he didn’t have all the facts, there was enough evidence that he had to act. Securing his bedroom door, he quickly shouted out, “Dobby!”

With a brisk pop, Dobby, the Malfoy family house-elf, appeared before Draco.

“Master Draco called for Dobby,” the elf replied. Typical for his kind, he had a long-pointed nose and floppy years. He was short and very skinny, his bones semi-visible even under the worn, dirty potato sack that signified his status.

Dobby and his lineage had served the Malfoy family for many generations. Being an only child, Draco grew bored of manor’s cold walls, and Dobby was more than happy to entertain the young heir. The two were very close and spent lots of time together until his father found out and forbid the two from ever personally interacting outside a master/slave relationship.

Despite the fear of punishment for both of them, Draco continued his friendship with Dobby. When Draco returned from Hogwarts after his first year, he was sad to see Dobby spotting new bruises and scars (at the hand of his father’s cruelty, no doubt). Lucius Malfoy took the stance that elves were creatures and thus below the status of wizards. They existed solely for servitude and held no other value. It was a stance, among others, that Draco disagreed with ardently.

After catching Dobby up on his adventures at Hogwarts, the elf informed Draco that his father had been meeting with several dark wizards coming and going from the property as if they were meeting and planning something ominous concerning Harry. Dobby had provided Draco with little information, only that Lucius was a part of a sinister plot that could shut down Hogwarts. Draco urged Dobby to keep spying on his father and monitor Harry for any suspicious activity. Now, it appeared his father’s plan was ready to be set in motion, and it was time to warn Harry.

“Dobby. I need you to do me a favor,” Draco commanded, a sense of urgency evident in his tone.

“What’s master Draco needing?” Dobby asked.

“I need you to find Harry Potter and warn him.”

________________

Harry quickly ran up the stairs of 4 Private Drive, fleeing to the spare bedroom converted from Dudley’s old toy room to the space he now got to sleep in. While the room wasn’t as ornate or homely as the Gryffindor dormitories at Hogwarts, it was unquestionably an improvement from the cupboard under the staircase. Tonight, Harry was to stay as quiet as possible and pretend he didn't exist while the Dursleys entertained the Masons. He was contemplating how to keep Hedwig, his snowy-white owl, occupied to avoid his Uncle’s ire when he opened the door and gasped. Jumping up and down on his bed was an unknown magical creature.

At the sight of the infamous wizard, Dobby squeaked out, “Harry Potter! Such an honor, it is.”

Slowly, Harry quietly shut the door, “Who are you?”

“Dobby, Sir. Dobby the house-elf.”

“Not to be rude or anything, but this isn’t a great time to have a house-elf in my bedroom,” Harry said perturbed.

“Oh yes, Sir. Dobby understands, Sir. It’s just that Master Draco has sent Dobby here to tell you…it is...difficult, Sir. Dobby wonders where to begin.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at the mention of Draco’s name. He hadn’t heard from him or any of his friends all summer. The Dursleys refused to let Hedwig out of her cage, leaving Harry unable to send his own correspondence. Which meant he was relying solely on his friends to keep in touch. As the weeks of the holiday continued to pass without any word, Harry became sad and disappointed, wondering why no one had written. Now, things were making sense. Something serious must have happened in the Wizarding world for Draco to send a house-elf instead of an owl. Harry gestured to the bed, “Well, why don’t you sit down.”

“Sit…sit down?” Dobby started wailing. Thick tears easily flowed from his large, tennis ball-shaped eyes. 

“Shh… Dobby! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything!” Harry quipped, frantically trying to get Dobby to quiet down.

“Offend, Dobby? Master Draco has told Dobby of your greatness, Sir. But…never has he been asked to sit down by another wizard… like an equal,” Dobby explained.

“You can’t have met many decent wizards then,” Harry replied, kindly smiling.

“No, I haven’t,” Dobby squeaked. The little elf’s face dropped as he walked over to Harry’s tall dresser, “That was an awful thing to say.”

Dobby started to bang his head against the drawers, the rattling making lots of noise that Harry thought for sure the Dursleys would hear downstairs.

“Stop! Dobby, Stop!” Harry pleaded. After a few more hits, Dobby stopped the self-inflicted punishment and walked dazedly over to Harry’s desk stool. The young wizard asked in concern, “Are you alright?”

“Dobby had to punish himself, Sir. Dobby spoke ill of his family, Sir,” the elf explained.

“Your family?” Harry asked, confused.

“The wizard family Dobby serves, Sir. Dobby is bound to serve one family, the Malfoy family, forever. Master Draco told Dobby to come. You see, Dobby has to protect Harry Potter; To warn him! Harry Potter must not come back to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. There is a plot, a plot to make most terrible things happen.”

“What terrible things? Who’s plotting them?” Harry pried.

Dobby started to grunt and groaned as he realized his mistake. Lucius forbade him from telling anyone of the sinister scheme developed, even from master Draco. Dobby grabbed the closest thing in his reach and started to hit himself in the head with a lamp.

“Okay, I’m sorry. You can’t tell me,” Harry wrestled with Dobby trying to stop him, but by the time Harry had managed to get Dobby to release the lamp, it was too late. The elf had made too much noise, and Uncle Vernon was stomping his way up the stairs.

The young wizard picked up Dobby and threw him in his closet, frantically telling the house-elf to keep quiet just before Uncle Vernon opened the door.

“What the devil are you doing up here, boy? Do you think this is a joke?” Uncle Vernon interrogated with menacing eyes.

“Sorry, Sir,” Harry apologized as he leaned against the closet door, trying to keep Dobby from opening it.

“ _One_ _more sound_ , and you’ll wish you hadn’t been born, boy!” Uncle Vernon left in a huff, his threat looming over Harry, who opened the closet door and let Dobby tumble out.

“You see why I have to go back? I don’t belong here. I belong in your world. At Hogwarts. It’s the only place I got friends.”

“Friends that don’t even write to Harry Potter?” Dobby questioned.

“Well, I bet… Hang on. How do you know my friends haven’t been writing?” Harry asked the elf accusatorily.

Dobby backed away from Harry, putting his hands behind his back and lowering his head in admission, “Harry Potter mustn’t be angry with Dobby. Master Draco told Dobby to protect Harry Potter. So, Dobby thought that if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him. Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, Sir.”

Harry watched as Dobby explained his misguided orders while the house-elf pulled out a stack of letters addressed to young Gryffindor. He allowed his anger to bubble up as he held out his hand and demanded that Dobby hand them over.

“NO!” Dobby yelled, tucking Harry’s letters back inside his potato sack covering. The house-elf bolted through the bedroom door and darted down the stairs, stopping at the kitchen threshold. Simultaneously, Harry and Dobby made eye contact with the dessert that was sitting on the counter.

“Dobby! Get back here!” Harry whispered frantically.

The house-elf shook his head with a mischievous glint in his eye as he snapped his fingers, causing the cake to float in the air magically. 

Harry watched in horror as the cake levitated, “Dobby! Please, no!”

“Harry Potter must say that he is not going back to school!” Dobby threatened in a low tone.

“I can’t!” Harry whispered back frantically, “Hogwarts is my home.”

“Then Dobby must do it, Sir. For Harry Potter’s so good!” Dobby uttered as he snapped his fingers again, making the cake float towards the family room.

Harry pushed past Dobby in a fleeting attempt to stop the floating cake from dropping on Mrs. Mason’s head. His hands were outstretched as he tried to grab the dessert without being noticed. The Dursleys prayed silently, the fear evident across their faces as they watched the scene with bated breath. Before Harry could stop the mischief that Dobby caused, the house-elf snapped his fingers a third time. The cake dropped all over Mrs. Mason’s head, coating her in the ruined delicacy. 

Uncle Vernon started to fake sob as he lied about what transpired. Harry turned around and gave Dobby a cross look just as the elf disappeared, presumably returning to Malfoy Manor.

________________

After the events that unfolded at the Dursleys, Lucius summoned Dobby away from the manor, keeping the elf from updating Draco until a few days later. When the house-elf popped into the bedroom, he found the young master on his bed reading a muggle book that Hermione had gifted Draco. 

“How did it go? Did you warn him? How is he doing?” Draco bombarded the elf with questions.

“Dobby protected Harry Potter. He will not be going back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Dobby boasted as he hopped up on Draco’s bed.

“Not going back? Dobby… what did you do?” Draco asked skeptically.

After Dobby explained what happened, Draco’s jaw dropped, “That is… not what I meant.... You stole his mail?”

“Yes! Dobby’s most ingenious idea!” the elf puffed his chest a little in pride of his cleverness.

“And you used magic in front of muggles?”

“No, no, Master Draco. Just enough so that Harry Potter will be safe and not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is locked away, nice and safe,” Dobby confirmed. 

“Locked away?” Draco asked, concerned.

“Oh yes! The fat ugly muggle put bars on Harry Potter’s window. I checked before coming back to the manor,” the elf replied.

“Dobby, can you leave the letters on my desk. And… I think Mini was looking for you while you were out,” Draco said, trying to get the troublemaking elf out of his room as quickly as possible. He knew Dobby meant well, but sometimes his creativity for orders went one step too far.

“Yes, Master Draco,” the elf replied. After Dobby disappeared, Draco wrote a brief letter before opening his balcony door and whistling for his owl. The black barn owl came soaring over and perched itself on the railing before grabbing the letter from Draco’s hand.

“Take this to the Burrow, Ron Weasley. Now!” Draco ordered, shooing the bird off into the night. He hoped that Ron and the rest of the Weasleys would be able to help Harry. Merlin knows what else the Dursleys would do to Harry after Dobby dropped the cake on the muggle woman. The letter just had to be enough to push Ron into action.

_Harry is in trouble!_

_Long story short, it’s my fault, and I need your help._

_The Dursleys have locked him away and won’t let him go to Hogwarts._

_I can’t sneak out, but I know you and your brothers can._

_Rescue him. Please!_

_-Draco_

__________________________

The Malfoy’s were sitting at the grand dining room table having breakfast when Mini came into the room and presented a letter to Lucius on a silver tray.

“Oh, and what do we have here,” Lucius casually remarked as he picked the letter up. He carefully unfolded the contents, “Well, well. Draco’s school supplies list. Is it that time already?”

“May I see it, Father?” Draco asked, curious to see what books he would need for the new term.

“In a moment. I just wanted to see what material’s the headmaster has required for your second year.”

Lucius was studying the letter intently. After a few moments, the affluent man clucked his tongue before handing the letter to Draco, “These texts are just not on par with the rest of Europe. At this rate, Draco will require more summer tutoring just to keep up with Durmstrang.” 

“I’m sure you could bring it up to the Board of Governors at the next meeting,” Narcissa politely suggested after noticing her son’s slight wince at Lucius’s threat of more private tutors.

“I have tried. These were the texts that won the majority. The newer members wanted more… economically standardized reading to accommodate those who cannot afford the better materials,” Lucius said, his voice lacing with disdain.

The Malfoy's had a long history of ancient pureblood magic, which allotted them enormous wealth and status in the Wizarding world. Draco knew he was lucky. His mother was involved in a substantial amount of charity work growing up and often forced Draco to participate in her causes. Narcissa believed that it was paramount to raise her son to be aware of the world he lives in and the responsibility of his status. His appreciation for his title and wealth only grew after Hogwarts. He recognized that there were families like Ron’s who were not as wealthy and couldn’t always afford new supplies each year. Hermione’s family didn’t have to struggle (on account for the fact that her parents made enough in their profession that they were not grossly impacted by the exchange rate from muggle currency to Galleons), but not all muggleborn families were that fortunate. Unlike his father, Draco didn’t think that the privileges his family enjoyed meant that he was better than others.

“We should probably make the purchases sooner rather than later,” commented Narcissa.

“I have some business in Knockturn alley later this morning. Perhaps we can stop in Diagon and pick-up Draco’s things,” Lucius responded to his wife.

“I would like that very much,” Draco politely interjected, trying to hide his excitement about going to London. If he had gotten his list today, then that meant Hermione, Harry, and the Weasley’s did as well. Internally, he was hoping to see them as well. 

__________________________

When the Malfoy’s arrived in Diagon alley, Lucius broke off to attend his appointment while Narcissa took Draco to Flourish and Blotts to collect his school books. Draco was nervous about possibly seeing his friends again. He was worried Ron hadn’t gotten his letter. Anxious to know if Harry had gotten rescued or learn he wouldn’t be on the train. He was the most nervous about seeing Hermione after a few months. The two corresponded continuously by owl, but it was just better to see her in person. 

“Who is the gift for?” Narcissa prodded as she looked down at her son, holding a neatly wrapped squared package. Draco blushed but didn’t respond. He had been dying to give this to Hermione all summer. It was a book about the formation of the MACUSA that he thought she would find fascinating. Noticing his embarrassment, Narcissa was about to inform him she was just going to check out the fiction section upstairs when Draco turned around and saw the Weasley family standing in the store.

“Weasley!” Draco shouted, causing the entire family to turn their heads in his direction. Draco ran over with a smile on his face when he spotted Ron in front of them all. 

“Hey, Malfoy! Good to see you!” Ron said, genuinely smiling as well.

“How did it go? Did you get my letter?” Draco asked, worried about Harry.

“The operation was a success,” George replied smugly.

“Absolutely epic! We have to tell you all about it!” Fred added.

“Draco,” Narcissa called out behind him, “are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

The young wizard hesitated only for a moment before giving introductions, “Mother, I would like to introduce you to my friend, Ron Weasley. These are his twin brothers, Fred and George, and his parents…I’m sorry. I don’t know the rest of their names.”

“Arthur and Molly, correct? And your daughter? Narcissa Malfoy. A pleasure to formally meet you,” the Malfoy matriarch nodded politely.

“That’s correct,” Arthur said, his stance tightening as if he were on guard.

“It’s nice to see you as well, Narcissa. Yes, this is our youngest, Ginny,” Molly said, matching the Narcissa’s tone and smiling back. 

“I won’t keep you from your friends, Draco. If you need me or see your father, tell him I’ll be upstairs,” Narcissa hinted as she walked away. 

Just then, Harry and Hermione walked into the shop, making their way over to Draco and the Weasleys.

“Oh, Harry! We were so worried about you. We hoped you only gone one fireplace too far,” Molly fretted as she briskly brushed off Harry’s robe.

“Draco! It’s so good to see you!” Hermione exclaimed, handing her textbooks to her father. She quickly hugged Draco before greeting the rest of the Weasleys.

While everyone exchanged pleasantries, Draco reached into his robe pocket and handed Harry his missing letters, “Sorry about that, mate. Thought you might want those.”

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry said, gratefully accepting his mail.

“I hope you’re not mad at me. Or Dobby. I didn’t tell him to steal your mail. I just said to protect you in case something happened. I’ve made a mental note to be more specific when asking him to do something,” Draco explained, giving his friend an embarrassed chuckle.

Harry smiled kindly, “It’s okay. He sounds like a good friend to have.”

Hermione and Ron gave the two a weird look until Draco said, “It’s a long story. Maybe we can tell it later after I hear how you busted Harry out of jail!”

“Ah, mate! It was seriously mental. But amazing! Wish you could have been there,” Ron lamented to Draco.

Hermione shook her head at the boys, laughing, “How is it possible that you’ve managed to get into more trouble over the summer than during our first year?”

Before the conversation could continue, the owner of the shop announced the presence of the infamous Gilderoy Lockhart. The celebrity posed, preened and smiled at the crowd of adoring fans like a peacock showcasing his feathers. Women were swooning at the wizard dressed in metallic, turquoise robes when an older wizard rushed forward with a camera claiming to be from the _Daily Prophet_.

“Mum fancies him,” Ron muttered to Harry and Draco, earning him a slap in the arm from Molly Weasley. 

After a couple of photographs were taken, Lockhart spotted Harry in the crowd, causing excited mummers to filter through the shop. Before anyone could blink, the photographer grabbed Harry’s robe and pulled him forward to stand next to Lockhart.

With the moment captured,

With the moment captured for tomorrow’s front page _,_ Lockhart turned to address the crowd, “Ladies and Gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is. When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, _Magical Me_.”

He paused to allow the crowd to praise the accomplishment. Everyone, including Molly, Ginny, and Hermione, was avidly clapping. Ron and Draco looked over the crowd in confusion at the display of adoration for the wizard when the man continued, “Which incidentally is currently celebrating its 27th week atop the Daily Prophet bestseller list. He had no idea that he would, in fact, be leaving with my entire collective works… free of charge.”

Lockhart shoved a voluminous stack of books into Harry’s hands, then smiled (seriously, can this man stop showing off his teeth?) once more at the camera as it flashed. The crowd erupted into applause one final time before gathering into a single file line to receive an autograph.

“Give me those, Harry dear, and I’ll get them signed. All of you wait outside,” Molly directed, relieving Harry from the pressures of fame.

Everyone in their group made their way to the front door. When they were finally free of the crowd, Draco looked over his shoulder to see Hermione was still flustered after seeing the famous wizard, “Oy, Granger. Lockhart isn’t all that.”

“Thank you, Malfoy! Someone had to say it,” Ron cried out, agreeing wholeheartedly with the statement.

Hermione scoffed a little, rolling her eyes, “His novels are beyond brilliant! And he is extremely accomplished! Besides, haven’t you heard? He’s going to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”

Ron and Draco simultaneously groaned at hearing the news. Hermione was about to retort the noises of displeasure when Draco leaned over to tease her, “If you keep saying how wonderful Lockhart is, I might not give you your early birthday present.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked excitedly as she quickly unwrapped the proffered package. She gasped as she read the title, “Draco! This is a first edition! Where did you get it?”

The entire time everyone was distracted by Lockhart’s speech, no one thought to look up into the second-floor balcony to see Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini watching the interaction.

“Well, well. If it isn’t famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go into a book shop without being recognized,” Theo jeered.

“Potter and his gang of blood traitors,” Blaise taunted the group.

“Don’t forget the mudblood, Zabini,” Theo snickered. 

Draco pushed Blaise, causing the boy to stumble and knockback into Theo, “Leave her alone!”

Before Draco could lunge further at the two, he felt a pressure on his right shoulder that was all too familiar. He glanced down to see the ornate silver head of a Gabon Viper with emeralds for eyes resting harshly on his shoulder.

“Now, now Draco. Play nicely,” Lucius commanded as he examined the scene in front of him. Smiling maliciously, he spoke to Harry first, “Are these your house friends, Draco? Why I was so looking forward to being introduced. Mr. Potter. Lucius Malfoy… Forgive me.”

Before Harry could stop him, Lucius had pulled the boy-who-lived closer so that he could use his cane to move aside Harry’s bangs and examine his scar. Draco tensed up at the sight of his father’s behavior. He felt compelled to do something… like he should intervene, but he didn’t know-how. Not with all these people around. He had no idea what emotions were displayed on his face when he suddenly felt someone take hold of his wrist and give it a gentle squeeze. Hermione looked up at Draco with concern, her thumb finding his pulse point as she gave it a light tap in acknowledgment that she was here for him. She gave him a small smile before turning her attention back to Harry and Lucius.

Harry had broken away from Lucius’s grip, the two in an intense stare-off and conversation about You-Know-Who.

“You must be very brave to mention his name,” Lucius stated, trying not to sneer at the boy.

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself,” Hermione spoke up. Draco looked over at the courage of her voice to see the hard determination in her eyes. He felt his heart flutter a little bit at the bravery she showed standing up to his father.

Lucius turned his attention towards Hermione at the sound of her defiance. He briefly glanced down to see Hermione holding Draco’s wrist before he tried to fix her with his signature intimidation stare, “And you must be, Miss Granger. Yes, Draco’s told me all about you. And your parents.”

 _Liar_ Draco internally screamed as he ducked his head to avoid his father’s shame and disgust. The entire interaction made him feel embarrassed and uncomfortable. Unlike Hermione, he didn’t know how to find his voice to stop this nonsense. Where was the Gryffindor courage when he needed it? _Coward_ , he kept calling himself over and over again in his head. He was so wrapped up in his negative self-talk that he wouldn’t realize until later Hermione had handled the scene without succumbing to a panic attack.

Lucius turned his gaze over to where Hermione’s parents were standing and talking to Arthur Weasley, “Muggles, aren’t they?” Lucius raised his eyebrow at her, daring Hermione to challenge him further. Draco looked up just enough to see the emotion play across his father’s face. He expected to see a hateful glare, but instead, his father looked almost…curious? Hermione was refusing to let go of Draco while she continued to match Lucius’s stare. Despite refusing to back down from the argument, Lucius appeared to placated enough to move on and continue his assessment of Draco’s friends by humiliating the Weasleys. He had grabbed a book from Ginny’s cauldron when Arthur approached his children and suggested everyone go outside.

“Weasley Sr.,” Lucius greeted with disdain.

“Lucius,” Arthur replied in the same tone.

“Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, with all those extra raids. I do hope the ministry is paying you overtime. Though, judging by the state of these, I’d say not. What’s the use in being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?” Lucius demeaned condescendingly.

“We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” Arthur replied sternly, trying not to get upset in front of his family.

“Clearly,” Lucius said before dropping Ginny’s books back into her cauldron, “Associating with Muggles. And I thought your family could sink no lower,” Lucius was turning to leave the shop when he said over his shoulder, “Collect your mother, Draco. We’re leaving.”

Once Lucius left the shop, Draco let out a breath he hadn’t realized he been holding in. He looked up to see all the Weasleys staring at him.

“I’m sorry. He’s so cruel sometimes…”

Hermione was the first to move forward as she hugged Draco, soothing him, “You never need to apologize for his actions. Only apologize for yours.”

Draco hugged her back, “I’m sorry, Hermione. I should have stuck up for you,” When they broke the hug, Draco turned to Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, “For you all, too.”

“Hermione’s right, Draco. A twelve-year-old should never have to apologize for their parent’s behavior,” Arthur reassured, giving the boy a look of pity for his circumstances, “If you ever need a home to turn to, you are more than welcome at the Burrow.”

Draco smiled at the offer when he heard his mother’s voice behind him, “Draco, it’s time to go, darling. Say goodbye to your friends.”

“Bye, Draco,” Hermione said, smiling.

“See you guys at school!” Draco said to Harry and Ron. The two smiled and returned the sentiment as Draco and Narcissa walked out the door to find Lucius standing on the sidewalk waiting for them.

As the Malfoys were walking down the alley to apparate back to the manor, Lucius looked down at Draco, “I didn’t realize you were so close to the mudblood. Granger was her name?”

Draco gulped, trying to keep his composure in public, as he replied quietly, “Yes, Hermione is my friend.”

“I don’t want this friendship to continue to develop further. You are to cease associating with her immediately. The Weasleys as well.”

“But father…” Draco tried to argue. He abruptly stopped as soon as he saw the menacing look on his father’s face.

“Now, now Draco. I understand this will be difficult given that you share a house with them. But this is for the best,” Lucius explained cryptically, ending the conversation.

Upon entering the manor, Draco stormed off to his room where he spent the rest of the day going through his letters with Hermione. How was he going to tell her that his father didn’t approve of their friendship? That, possibly, it meant something more to him? She hadn’t brought up the kiss in the chess room in any response. Maybe she didn’t want to talk about it in writing and was waiting for a private moment to bring it up? Or perhaps she thought it was a mistake, hoping he would forget all about it? Lost in his contemplation, he startled at the soft knock sounding at his door.

“Come in,” he called as he quickly put the letters in his nightstand drawer.

“Draco, dear. Dinner is almost ready. Will you come down?” Narcissa asked.

“Not hungry,” Draco replied stoically.

Narcissa looked over and saw how disheartened Draco felt. She gracefully moved inside and sat on the edge of Draco’s bed. Carefully folding her hands into her lap, she turned her head toward Draco, “You’re upset by what your father said earlier in Diagon alley.”

“Harry and Ron are my friends. And Hermione…She’s my best friend,” Draco rushed out before lowering his head, refusing to meet his mother’s eyes, “I can’t just stop talking to them, Mother. I’m sure you’re probably disappointed in me too.”

“Draco,” Narcissa took a deep breath before opening her arms to allow Draco to crawl over and hold him, “I know you are growing up, but I want you to promise me something…”

Draco pulled out of his mother’s embrace to look up at her in confusion, “Yes, mother?”

“I will admit, I am a little perplexed by your friendship with the Granger girl. And you know our opinion of the Weasleys. So, what I am asking of you, my dragon, is I want you to _really_ consider if these friendships are worth pursuing,” she raised her hand to stop her son’s outburst, “I’m not saying I disagree with the association, but I am also not entirely supportive. I merely want you to think about what your father and I have told you and spend some time coming to your own conclusions.”

Draco slowly closed his mouth, the wheels in his mind turning over and over, trying to process his mother’s request. While his father could be pretty transparent, his mother was almost unreadable. She was the pedigree of what a Pureblooded wife should be, but Draco felt like he had seen glimpses of something more defiant under her beautiful exterior. Realizing his mother was waiting for a response, Draco cleared his throat.

“Thank you, mother. I’ll be down to dinner in just a moment,” Draco finally relayed. When his mother left, he laid back down on his bed to continue with his thoughts. While it was clear his mother had not formed an opinion on Draco’s relationships, he had hope that she would lean towards the side of approval.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting.  
> I don't have an update schedule, but will try to post as frequently as possible.


End file.
